Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction: First Adventure
by blackblade2
Summary: First in a series. A girl innocently follows her cat, who leads her into an adventure that will affect the rest of her life. Rated for violence, after chapter three is up. COMPLETE
1. Millie the Huntress

Millie was once just the 'evil cat' that lived in our house, the one we rescued from   
one of those Free Kitten boxes outside a local department store. She was a   
gray-and-peach calico, with a peach arrow mark on the top of her head. In the   
winter, when she spent most of her time indoors, she liked to terrorize our other   
cats, especially Eleanor, because Ellie would never even consider fighting back   
– she just ran and hid. In the summer, when most of her time was spent   
outdoors, she chased rodents, and brought home her victories. (Some dead,   
some not; a few whole, but most…well…otherwise.)   
She was mean to people as well as cats, as my Dad had discovered the hard   
way the day she bit his hand and gave him a gash that took two weeks to heal.   
Then one day, I made a shocking discovery; one that would change Millie in my   
eyes forever. This is how it happened…  
My dad had just bought a DVD player, something we had never had before.   
He'd been renting lots of DVD's from the video club he belonged to, trying to   
prove, I guess, that the machine had not been a totally useless purchase, as   
Mom was inclined to think. One night he rented a movie called Highlander for   
them to watch, and he suggested I watch it too. I'd never heard of it before, but   
having nothing much better to do, I decided I'd see what it was about. Heck, I   
though, I can always leave if I don't like it. Mom mentioned to me what a 'hunk'   
she thought the guy who played the Highlander was, but I didn't pay much   
attention and really didn't care.   
But, despite the prospect of having Mom bug me about whether I thought this   
actor-guy was cute, (I'd never seen an actor I thought was worth looking at   
twice) I went downstairs and watched the movie anyway. Millie watched it too,   
from a comfortable seat on my lap, and every time I looked at her she was   
showing her fangs. I could have sworn she was laughing.   
According to Dad, the movie was "dumb, with no storyline," and according to   
Mom, it was "one of 'those' movies: stupid and pointless." Nobody asked me   
what I thought, and frankly I'm glad they didn't, because who knows what they   
would have thought of my answer: "That was the best movie I have ever seen.   
What a story!" Part of the reason I liked it so much was that I had somewhat of   
an addiction to high-action movies, and that had been nothing if not action-  
oriented. The other thing I liked so much was the base concept: writing stories   
was my hobby, and I was always looking for new and different ideas. I found the   
idea of people who don't die fascinating. And I had to admit, Mom had had a   
point: the Highlander was pretty cute.   
I found out a lot about the story of Highlander just by watching the movie,   
despite never having heard of it before. Basically, the Highlander (whose name   
is Duncan MacLeod) is an immortal. Many other immortals exist, too, although   
nobody except the Watchers knows exactly how many. The ultimate goal of   
some, though not all of them, is to wipe out the rest and become the only one   
left, which will leave the survivor with immense power. Sword fighting is a way of   
life for them, because there is only one way to kill an immortal: behead them.   
The more kills a particular immortal makes, the more powerful he becomes,   
through events called Quickenings, where all the powers of the dead immortal   
become part of the immortal who killed him. Their motto is "There can be only   
one."   
Anyway, back to Millie…one July day, I walked out onto the porch to water my   
plants, and found yet another mangled piece of a dead rodent – handiwork of   
dearest Millie.   
"Mom!" I called. "Another rodent!"   
"Oh, gee," was the reply. "Dead or alive?"   
"Barely recognizable as a mammal," I retorted.   
Mom snorted. "What a rarity!" (We're presented with those at least twice a day   
in the summer – sometimes more. If I ever need a dead rodent for something –   
or part of one, at least – I won't have to go far.)   
I walked back inside, put the plant-watering jug back under the kitchen sink,   
and plopped down on the sofa. Mom was putsing around the kitchen, probably   
making dinner. That's always the first place to look for my Mom – in the kitchen.   
Cooking is not only her college degree, it's her hobby. She knows almost   
everything there is to know about food, and she's a great cook – even though   
some of her dishes are bound to bomb once in a while. Hey, everybody's do   
sometimes.   
"I've got it!" she suddenly exclaimed, as if a brilliant idea had just occurred to   
her. "I've solved the mystery!"  
"What mystery?" I asked, trying unsuccessfully to think of a mystery we'd been   
trying to solve.   
"The mystery," she replied, "of why Mil's kills are always beheaded: she's an   
immortal!"   
I laughed so hard at that, I thought I'd fall of the couch. Millie! An immortal!   
What an idea.   
"Where does she keep her sword?" I joked. "And how'd she find a trench coat   
small enough to fit her?"  
"Hmmm…" Mom said. "She must keep her sword under the porch. And of   
course she would have had the coat specially made."  
At that moment, Millie herself appeared from upstairs.   
"Yes, Millie," I said to her. "Yes, we're talking about you. We've found out your   
secret…where'd you learn to fence, anyway?"  
She twitched her tail at me as if to say, how dare you accuse me of such a   
thing? I would never sink to that level of bloodletting. Where are your manners?   
"Just kidding, Mil," I assured her. "We were joking about all your neatly   
beheaded rodents."  
She graced that comment by stalking outside and showing up fifteen minutes   
later with…you guessed it…another half a rodent.   
* * * 


	2. In the Barn

Several days, and many, many more rodents later, I became curious just where   
on earth Millie was finding all these prime gray-furred specimens of the order   
rodentia, species mus musculus. (Mus musculus – that's Latin for mouse.)  
So one day, I let Mil out, then slipped on my hiking sneakers – the soft and   
quiet ones – and followed her.   
I followed her all the way up to the Starosselski's big wooden barn, where she   
went in, climbed a ladder up to the loft, and disappeared behind an old moldy   
bale of hay.   
'Duh,' I thought to myself. 'I should have realized that the prime place for mice   
is a barn. Anybody knows that!'   
I had never been inside the Starosselski's barn before, only seen it from the   
outside. They didn't have any animals, just lots of moldy hay bales, piles of junk,   
an antique car sitting in a corner, and plenty of cobwebs.   
I crossed the floor carefully, stepping over and around the mingled piles of junk   
and hay, tripping only once over what looked like a lawn mower from about fifty   
years ago. Clouds of dust rose around me as I walked, and swirled in the   
streams of sunlight filtering in through cracks in the walls.   
I reached the ladder without tripping over anything else, and climbed carefully   
up. It looked – and sounded – pretty decrepit…just like everything else in there.   
When I reached the top, I paused and looked around to see where Millie had got   
to. The loft was really pretty cool: it stretched from one side of the front door, all   
the way around the wall, over the back door, and ended on the other side of the   
front door, forming a sort of squared-off horseshoe shape.   
As I looked to my left, toward the back end of the loft, I caught sight of Millie's   
tail as it disappeared to the right around yet another hay bale. (The loft was filled   
them, almost like a big, dried-up hedge maze.) I started sneaking off after Millie,   
trying hard to be quiet so I wouldn't scare off the mice. (I really wanted to see   
one – one that had not had the infamous Millie Treatment that always made Dad   
so sick.)   
I walked up to the hay bale where she had disappeared, turned right, turned   
left, and looked for her again. This time I saw her, way up at the end of a kind of   
tunnel with hay walls, turn left, heading across the part of the loft over the back   
door. I hurried quietly after her, the sound of softly rustling hay coming from   
under my feet as I moved. I reached the end of the passage and turned left, just   
in time to see Mil turn left again at the end of another long hay tunnel, this time   
heading for the farthest point of the horseshoe, back towards the front door.   
'Where is she going?' I wondered. 'Does she really have to be in just the   
perfect, pre-selected spot to hunt mice?'   
Apparently she did, because she seemed to have the route to 'the perfect spot'   
down pat. So I turned left at the end of the tunnel, and followed the gently   
waving gray tail towards the front of the barn, then right, then left again, and I   
walked until I ran up against a solid hay wall, about eight feet high, while she   
slipped through a tiny cat-size hole to whatever was beyond. (I assumed more   
hay.)   
'Well,' I asked myself, 'Now what? I obviously can't fit through there, so I guess   
I'll have to go back out to the path, and find another way in.'   
So I turned around and walked back out, turning to head again for the front of   
the barn. After a few yards I turned to the right, and came to a hay wall maybe   
six feet high, the top just a few inches above my head. This had to be the space   
where Millie was.   
I stood on my toes, trying to peer over the top, but I couldn't quite see. I'd just   
get another bale to stand on. I turned around to grab a bale from behind me, but   
I heard a strange noise from 'Millie's room' and turned back around to figure out   
what it was, but it had stopped.   
I quickly turned around, grabbed the bale of hay, dragged it over to the spot I'd   
been standing, and stepped up. I started to raise my head slowly over the top of   
the wall, but then I heard the noise again, and ducked back down. It sounded   
like a human voice!   
Then I realized the Starosselskis must be in the barn – after all, it was their   
barn. But I listened for another few seconds, and realized the voice was much to   
deep to be one of the Starosselskis – they were old folks, with high-pitched   
voices. Then who, if not them, was in their barn, presumably unknown to them?   
Well, maybe I could find out. I sat down on my bale to listen to the voice, which   
was still speaking, but hay was apparently a very good sound barrier, because I   
couldn't make out a single word. So I stood up and walked back around to   
Millie's hole, pressed my ear to it, and listened there.   
It was a deep voice, obviously a man's voice.   
"It's about time you showed up, Theodore," it was saying. "You always come   
crawling out of the woodwork at the worst possible times. Can't you go make   
trouble for somebody else for a change?" The man had an accent, but it didn't   
sound like a pure accent to me. It was a strange cross between a Scottish   
brogue and the standard north-eastern English that I spoke. I frowned and   
continued to listen.   
"Why should I?" a second voice replied to the first one. This voice was also   
male and slightly higher, although not by much, and had a bit of a southern   
drawl to it. "You give me all the fun I need."   
"What's fun about Snell?" demanded the first voice, the Scot. "If you're not here   
to help me, which I have a feeling you aren't, begone."   
"No, no," corrected the other man, "It's you that'll soon be gone. My mission   
here is a little different than usual: I'm going to take on Snell myself - with your   
help."   
"What nonsense has got into you? You never help anyone, especially not me.   
What do you think you will gain from this?"   
"Everything," replied the southerner in a voice that sent chills down my spine.   
"You and Snell in one visit…I'll never have made better use of my time! You see,   
even though you may not think so, you're going to help me - just not in your   
current form. You will be part of me, and together we will defeat Snell."   
There was silence for a moment, until the first man spluttered, "Theodore, what   
- no! What's possessed you? You can't"-   
"Bah," broke in a scornful female voice. I started. I hadn't realized there was a   
third person there, too. "Duncan, he's bluffing, and you know it. Don't let him pull   
your strings. Look beyond your own little world for once, at least to the tip of your   
own nose!"   
"This isn't your issue," retorted the Scot. "And I'd thank you to keep your nose   
where it belongs."   
"It hasn't moved a hair out of line," sniffed the woman. "It's right where it   
belongs, and that's looking after you. I shudder to think about the damage you'd   
cause if left on your own. Honestly, why don't go get married and settle down   
some place quiet?"   
"Because my love life is none of your business," was the growled reply.   
"What love life?" the woman taunted. "You mean your non-existent one?"   
"Can we leave my love life, existent or otherwise, out of this?" the man asked in   
a dangerous voice.   
"Yes, really," the southerner broke in, "Don't provoke him. All you're doing is   
making my job harder, and you wouldn't want to do that, would you?"   
"Actually, I would."   
"That wasn't my point."   
"Then what was?" I heard an exasperated sigh.   
"I should have learned by now not to give you the time of day - you're nothing   
but contrary. In fact, maybe I'll leave Duncan for a moment and start with you…"   
I heard a sudden flurry of movement, followed by a cat's hiss, which I guessed   
belonged to Millie. What was she doing?   
Turning, I tried to see through the hole I was listening at, but all that was in   
view was a black-denim-clad leg. One of the men yelped, and as the leg   
stumbled backwards towards my spyhole, I bolted upright and stumbled   
backwards myself, tripping and nearly falling over. Catching my balance, I crept   
over to the lower wall and stepped up onto the bale of hay I had dragged over   
for a vantage point. As I started to stand up to see over the wall, I heard a   
strange swishing noise, like metal sliding past metal, that ended in a ringing   
sound, and the Scot saying, "Theo, why fight? You were never a hunter – why   
start now? I don't want a bloodbath and I don't want your head, but if you force   
me I will kill you."   
"Now really," said the southerner in an oily voice, "What threats! I'm doing this   
to help you in cause…you do want to defeat old Stephen, don't you?"   
"The hell you are," sneered the woman. "Your motives are obvious, you slime-  
covered hairball. Don't try the slick way out, because I'll never let you trick   
Duncan, gullible as he sometimes is. You seem to have conveniently forgotten   
that I am his protector."   
"We don't have protectors," was the snapped reply. "It's illegal."   
"Assigned protectors, no. But I am not assigned." I heard people moving about   
slowly, too slowly to be pacing, and I wondered what was going on. Who were   
these people making death threats? I was starting to get very nervous, and I   
wondered for a moment if I should leave and call the police. But my curiosity   
overcame that thought, so I stayed where I was. 


	3. Off With His Head

"All right, Duncan," said the man called Theodore. "Enough of this chit-chat. It's   
time I had my share of the power!" I heard the sound of feet shuffling quickly in   
one direction, as if to get out of the way of something, followed by a dull thud as   
something landed in a bale of hay. There was a long, drawn-out scraping of   
metal on metal, and I ducked, startled, as a shower of sparks came over the wall   
and fell down around me. I suddenly had the distinct feeling that I was in danger,   
but I wanted to know what was going on - so I finally stood all the way up and   
looked over the wall.   
My mouth dropped open at what I saw: two men engaged in a ferocious sword-  
fight, and the one facing me was unmistakably Duncan MacLeod. He looked up   
and saw me, and the man with his back to me, who I figured had to be Theodore,   
turned to see what he was looking at. Theodore hesitated a split second too   
long, and Duncan shoved him into the wall of hay that I was standing against.   
The whole thing teetered and then collapsed, taking me with it to the floor and   
pinning me down under a large stack of bales, which I quickly discovered were   
too heavy to move. Theodore was sprawled on his belly in the hay, and when he   
tried to rise, Duncan lunged forward and took his head.   
I gasped and tried to scoot away from them, but the hay wouldn't let me move   
an inch. I struggled to get the load to shift even slightly, but it wouldn't budge.   
Who would have thought dried grass could be so heavy?   
Suddenly the loft lit up like lightning had hit it - and I could have sworn for a   
second that lightning had done just that. Then I shook my head. It was sunny   
outside, not raining. But when I looked around and saw Duncan on his knees,   
glowing with an aura of harsh blue light, I realized what the "lightning" had been:   
a Quickening.   
I'm asleep, I thought, shaking my head hard. I must be dreaming. There's no   
way this could be real life…it's that movie I saw the other night. Another streak of   
blue flashed by, barely missing me. I flinched as it singed one of the hay bales,   
which started to glow with flame. There was a crack overhead, and I watched as   
the last of the Quickening had its fun with Duncan, who slumped to the ground,   
unconscious.   
Silence fell in the loft once more, and I breathed a sigh of relief, until I noticed   
that the hay that had been singed was now burning - and it was one of the bales   
that had fallen over me. 


	4. Fire!

I realized immediately that the fire was already too big to blow out - even if I   
could have extinguished the flame, the hay would continue to smolder. My only   
hope was escape…but I had already proved that the immense pile of hay   
pinning me to the floor was not going to move. As I tried frantically to think of a   
solution, fear made my breath come faster and faster.   
Stop, I told myself. Calm down. Hyperventilating until you pass out won't help.   
But how can I calm down? screamed the other half of me, that annoying little   
inner voice. I could be facing my own death!   
Panicking will only make it come sooner. I held my head in my hands and   
argued with myself until I started to smell smoke. Snapping out of my inner   
battle, I looked around for something, anything, that could possibly help me.   
Spying the rail that ran above my head, separating the loft from the rest of the   
barn, I noticed part of it was broken, and I reached for it. The broken part came   
off in my hand - it was an inch-thick dowel about a yard long.   
Now what? I wondered. I tried to poke the bundle of burning hay to a point   
where it would fall, but it didn't move nearly far enough, and my arms quickly   
became tired. After another minute or two of poking and shoving, I figured out a   
way to brace the middle of the pole on another bale and lever the burning one   
over until it tipped and rolled a few yards away onto the loft floor, where it lay   
upside-down, the flames not inhibited in the least. Working fast, I managed to   
roll three more bales off of the pile pinning me to the floor, and I was finally free.   
Scrambling to my feet, I looked around.   
The original bale was now in full, brilliant flame, and so was the one that had   
been underneath it. This was not a fire I could do anything about – my only   
option was to leave the barn and get help. Sidling along the rail, I managed to   
get by the flames without getting too close. About to run for the ladder, I stopped   
short as a thought occurred to me – Duncan! I couldn't leave him here. I was   
pretty sure by now that he was immortal, but what if he wasn't? Besides, when   
help arrived, the firemen would find him, and I knew that immortals and medical   
help didn't mix.   
Duncan was lying facedown by the corner where the railing turned, his   
unsheathed and bloody sword still clenched in his right hand. I rolled him onto   
his back and tried to drag him across the floor, but he was too heavy for me to   
drag for more than a few feet. Stopping momentarily, I caught a face-full of   
smoke, and coughed. Glancing at the fire, I swallowed hard – it was advancing   
faster than I would have liked, and much faster than I could drag Duncan. There   
had to be another way to get out of the loft, a way that didn't require reaching the   
ladder on the other side.   
I stood and looked around, weighing my options. There was no other way down   
from the loft to the ground floor, and the few windows were all far too small for a   
person to fit through. The only option I could see was to leap over the railing.   
Leaving Duncan for a moment, I went to the edge of the loft and looked down to   
the floor below, which was littered with hay but not much else. Looking down   
from that height didn't bother me in the least, but when I thought about jumping   
from it, I gulped and shivered, involuntarily taking a step back from the rail. I   
wasn't scared of heights, but I was scared of falling from them, even though this   
was only a height of about twelve feet, at most.   
I looked back at the hungry flames, eating steadily away at the hay and now the   
floor, and instantaneously decided I had no choice – over the railing was the   
only way to go.   
Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I walked back over to Duncan and   
gripped him by the shoulders of his long coat, hauling him into a sort of sitting   
position. I dragged him over to the rail, using a nearby hay bale to raise him a bit   
higher up, and paused to figure out what the best way to accomplish this was.   
There was a sudden loud crack from my right, and a large spark flew over my   
head and landed in a small pile of hay not even a yard from my left foot, which   
was swiftly engulfed in flames that spread to another, larger pile of hay.   
So much for thinking about the best method of fleeing the fire – hauling on   
Duncan's coat, I got him to the top of the rail, then heaved him over and watched   
as he plummeted, wincing when he hit the floor with a smack. Now for the hard   
part. I looked over the rail at the drop, then wondered if I could use the ladder,   
since I wasn't dragging Duncan with me. When I looked in that direction,   
however, I realized that the fire that had started near my left foot had grown   
larger, and it effectively blocked the path to the ladder.   
There's nothing for it, I thought. Just jump. I stepped onto the bale of hay that I   
had used to help me lift Duncan over the rail, then from there onto the rail itself.   
That piece of wood suddenly seemed much narrower than it had a minute ago –   
it wiggled unsteadily, or I thought it did, and I flinched and nearly fell off. I   
gripped it tighter, my heart pounding. Jump, I commanded myself. Go for it – it's   
jump or die. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and leaped off the railing. 


	5. The Mystery

I couldn't breathe as I felt the air rush past my face. I was picturing the dizzying drop, the   
floor rushing to meet me…and suddenly I landed hard, coming to my knees as my eyes   
snapped open. Standing up and looking around, I allowed myself to breathe again, then   
winced and rubbed my knee where I had landed – cement hurt.   
I found Duncan and gripped him by the shoulders again, dragging him slowly out of the   
barn and around the corner, into the woods behind it. The going was slow and made my   
back ache, and I heard Duncan's coat rip several times, but I kept going. I made my way   
along behind the Starosselski's tool shed and down to the thick, weedy area behind the   
pond. My friend Alex and I had gotten lost there in the dark one night, but I had   
discovered in the process that it was a perfect place to hide something – or someone. I   
propped Duncan against a tree, hidden by a large green cluster of tangled reeds, then   
stood up and stretched out my complaining back before picking my way around the other   
end of the pond and racing for home.   
* * *   
I had called the fire department and then watched nervously from the window as the   
trucks came, stayed for a while, and then left. The Starosselskis still had not come home,   
although Millie had – and I had never been more grateful to see her. I'd realized while   
staring out the window that I hadn't seen her since before the fire started, and I had to   
wonder if she had gotten out of the barn in time. But even without that worry, I still had   
almost more to think about than I could handle.   
One of those many things I was wondering about was the third voice I had heard in the   
barn, the woman's voice. I hadn't seen a woman anywhere, and I hadn't heard her voice   
again. Had she been hiding? But that couldn't be, because both the men knew she was   
there, and she wouldn't have had time to hide from me. I hadn't even seen her after the   
hay walls fell down and caught on fire. I hadn't had a glimpse of anyone except Duncan   
and Theodore, and the latter of those two was now dead.   
I sighed and started to head for the kitchen, then changed my mind as I decided I didn't   
really feel like talking to mom right then. Instead, I went upstairs to my room and sat on   
my bed, staring across the room at my desk without really seeing it.   
What was going on? I wondered. Had I really managed to wander into the middle of a   
fight between two immortals? And what did Millie have to do with it? I was beginning to   
suspect that she had been there for a reason that wasn't really related to hunting mice. But   
what business could a cat have with a pair of immortals? I shook my head and got off the   
bed to go stare out the window by my desk, which faced into the back yard, away from   
the Starosselski's house. I leaned on the window and watched Eleanor, one of our other   
cats, trot across the lawn toward the porch. As I was gazing across the yard toward the   
trees on the other side, I thought I saw a flash of movement in the woods – but when I   
looked again, it was gone.   
'You're going crazy,' I told myself, shaking my head. 'You're seeing things. The smoke   
from that fire must have gotten to your brain.' But as I turned away from the window, I   
decided something else. 'I have got to get to the bottom of this mystery. I have to find out   
what's happening.' 


	6. You Again?

I was drawn to the barn the next afternoon like a fish hooked on a line. It was like   
it was calling me – I couldn't stay away. I wasn't sure, actually, what good going   
to the barn would do me, but whether or not it would help anything didn't seem to   
matter. My feet just took me there of their own accord.   
I made sure the Starosselskis weren't around, then crept cautiously to the door,   
wondering what I would find. I didn't know how much of the barn had burned,   
but it couldn't have been too much, because it wasn't obvious from the outside   
that there had even been a fire. I snuck in and pressed myself to the wall beside   
the door, glancing up and down, checking for other people.   
Then I made a face. What was I scared of? Why would there be anyone here?   
And even if there was someone else there, they would probably have about as   
much business there as I did: none. I relaxed and came away from the wall,   
walking slowly towards the ladder. Halfway up, I stopped as it occurred to me just   
how dangerous this little mission was. Burned buildings were some of the most   
dangerous places there were, and the people I had run into the day before weren't   
exactly safe. I thought about it for approximately another two seconds, then   
started up the ladder again. Even as I climbed, I was laughing at my own   
stupidity. Sometimes I was amazed at what an idiot I was – but I didn't really   
care. I was too curious.   
Creeping across the loft, I only got halfway around before the floor turned black   
beneath my feet. There were little piles of ashes that were the only remains of   
what were, only twenty-four hours ago, bales of hay. I looked around, asking   
myself what I was going to do now that I was here. As I kicked at a little piece of   
charred wood, that question was suddenly answered for me.   
"You again," said a voice behind me. "How did I know?" I whirled around in   
shock – I had thought I was the only one in there – and came face-to-face with   
Duncan MacLeod, for the second time in two days.   
"You again," I retorted.   
"Surprise you?" he asked with a slight smile. I only nodded.   
"What are you doing here?" my mouth asked before my brain gave it   
permission.   
"I could ask you the same thing. But I won't, because I think I already know the   
answer. I believe I would be here, too, if I was in your shoes." I frowned.   
Anybody who talked so that it wasn't perfectly clear what they were saying   
annoyed me.   
"You didn't answer my question," I told him.   
"You didn't answer mine."   
"You didn't ask one!" I glared at him. "Actually, it's becoming quite clear what   
you're here for – to annoy me!"   
"Oh, all right," he finally said, that hint of a smile coming back. "I'm here to   
make sure Theodore's gone. I think you know who he is?"   
"Was," I corrected. "In other words, yes, I do. And are you who – or should I say   
what – I think you are?" He raised his eyebrows and walked past me, into the   
burned part of the loft. I waited until he was a few yards ahead, then followed in   
his path so that I didn't fall through any brittle parts of the floor. I'd leave that for   
him to do.   
"Do you know when to stop asking questions?" he said over his shoulder.   
"No," I retorted, "I do not. Do you?" He was silent for a moment as he wandered   
around the damp black wreckage. He appeared to be searching for something.   
"Did Millie come home?" he asked me abruptly, stopping to look me in the eye.   
I stopped, too, and crossed my arms.   
"Did Millie come home?" I repeated mockingly. "What do you know about   
Millie?"   
"More than you do," he informed me sharply. "Did she?" I just stood and   
watched him, waiting to see what would happen. Nothing happened – he just   
continued to stare at me.   
"Yes," I finally said. "She did. What's it to you?" He looked relieved.   
"She's a – friend of mine…" he answered vaguely.   
"Millie's a friend of yours? Where would you have met her? And just what do   
you do with a little kitty friend?" I paused a second, then added derisively, "Or   
should I ask?" Duncan had gone to back to his hunt for something, but at my last   
question, he turned and fixed me with a fierce glare.   
"Sorry," I said, glancing away and blushing slightly. "That wasn't appropriate, I   
know." Then I looked back at him, and asked, "But just what did you mean by   
that?" He sighed and leaned against the railing, watching me. He almost looked   
like he had given up to something within himself.   
"Do you really want to know?" he asked me quietly. I nodded, feeling like the   
energy in the barn had suddenly changed. We had both been tense, each of us   
interrogating the other to the point of dangerous irritation, but now Duncan   
seemed to have lost a battle. It wasn't a battle with me, though – I wasn't quite   
sure who it was with. "Don't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you," he started,   
staring at me searchingly, as if he could tell by looking at me whether or not I was   
trustworthy.   
"I won't," I promised. He nodded slowly and started to talk. 


	7. Duncan's Story

Disclaimer: ok, it's time to put in what I should have put in when I started.   
I own Kat and her family, Millie, Theodore, and Snell. I do not own Duncan  
or Highlander Endgame.   
Author's Note: I have changed some of the rules of immortals to suit this   
story, so if something seems strange, it probably is. I have also added a   
few things that will seem very odd, but will be explained eventually.   
  
* * *   
  
"I think you've figured out most of it already," he began. "I am, as you said a   
few minutes ago, what you think I am. I was born in 1592 in Scotland." He   
stopped talking, and I stood and watched him. I couldn't very well not believe   
him – I had seen living, and dying, proof of what he was the day before. He   
didn't seem inclined to continue, so I prodded him gently.   
"And what about Millie?"   
"She's the same thing I am," he said simply. "She hunts mice for the same   
reason that some immortals hunt each other." I raised my eyebrows, but again, I   
would have a hard time disbelieving it. Millie had been here for a reason, and she   
had been here with Duncan and Theodore. I certainly couldn't think of a better   
reason.   
"But what did she have to do with you? And how do you know her name?"   
"She told me." I grinned – now that I didn't believe.   
"Yeah, right," I retorted. "Tell me another one."   
"All immortal animals speak at least one human language, so they can   
communicate with us. Sometimes they act as messengers when we can't contact   
each other directly – although cats are particularly averse to doing favors." He   
rolled his eyes, appearing to be tired of dealing with cats.   
"So why are you here, anyway?" I asked, deciding to let the Millie issue go for   
a moment.   
"An old enemy of mine is here," he told me. "In other words, I don't think I'll   
be here much longer." I was a little surprised.   
"You're assuming he's going to kill you?" Duncan nodded, looking at the floor.   
"I've lost every battle I've ever fought with him," he said quietly. "He shows up   
and makes me think he's trying to kill me, but once I lose, he just leaves."   
"Then what makes you think he'll finish the job this time, if he never has?" He   
sighed.   
"I just have a feeling. I can't explain it. A lot of our life goes by feelings – what   
we know instinctively will happen. And my gut is just telling me that Saturday's   
fight is Snell's." I was starting to feel bad for him – he looked so hopeless. Who   
wouldn't be, facing their own demise like that?   
"Isn't there anything you can do?" I asked him. "I mean, do you have to go   
meet this Snell?" Duncan laughed without humor.   
"If I don't meet him this week, he'll find me next week, and catch me when I'm   
not expecting it." He shook his head. "Saturday is my best chance." We stood   
silently for a minute, Duncan staring off into space, me staring at him. This was a   
lot for me to take in all at once – my brain was beginning to feel like it was   
suffering a short circuit. Then something else occurred to me, a question from   
the day before.   
"Who was the woman here yesterday?" I asked. Duncan frowned, looking   
genuinely puzzled.   
"The woman?" he asked. I nodded.   
"I heard her talking, right before you killed Theodore. I remember she was   
making fun of your love life, and then she told Theodore she was your 'self-  
assigned protector.' But I didn't see her during the fire. Where did she go?" The   
light seemed to come on in his head.   
"Oh," he said with a smile, "That was Millie you heard." I raised an eyebrow.   
"You're still saying my cat talks?"   
"She does," he told me seriously. "I know it sounds funny, but she really does.   
Sometimes I wish she didn't, though," he added. I couldn't tell whether or not he   
was joking. "Get her in a conversation for more than ten seconds, and the venom   
flies. She's got acid for blood." I had to smile. That did sound like Millie – she   
wasn't nice even without talking. I decided to believe Duncan, as I hadn't seen   
any woman but Millie. She was the only one that voice could have belonged to.   
Just then I felt what seemed to be a drop of water land on my head. I looked up,   
in time to get another drop in the face. Glancing down and out the barn door, I   
realized it had started to rain – not just outside, but in the barn, too. Apparently   
the roof leaked…no wonder all the hay was so moldy.   
"I better get home," I said to Duncan. "My mom will wonder where I am." He   
nodded distractedly. "By the way," I added, "You are Duncan, right?" He gave   
me an odd look. "Well, we never did introduce ourselves. I'm Kat, as if it makes   
a difference."   
"Yes, I'm Duncan," he told me. "Ah, nice to meet you." We both laughed at   
that, then said goodbye and I left to go back home. 


	8. The Highlander Bet

To MorganaPendragon - Kat and her parents watched Endgame, one reason why  
Kat didn't know what was going on - that's the only one she'd seen. Also,  
this isn't ending any time soon (hopefully!) as I have quite a bit more   
planned.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lying in bed that night, I went over the events of the day, my thoughts spinning   
in my head like a confused tornado. The Starosselski's barn…finding Duncan   
again…learning the truth about Millie…learning the truth about Duncan! And   
being trusted with such a big secret. I wondered why Duncan had told me – I had   
thought immortals weren't supposed to spill their secrets to us mortals.   
I sighed and turned over, remembering that I'd given my word to Duncan that I   
would never repeat what he had said. That meant I couldn't even tell my two best   
friends, Alex and Amy. I told them everything – this was going to be a difficult   
secret to keep. 'You gave your word,' I told myself. 'You can't break your   
promise.' I wouldn't tell – it was just going to be really hard. I fell asleep and   
dreamed about burning hay and Millie beheading mice.   
* * *   
The next day, I ended up once again in my neighbor's barn, having escaped   
from the house by telling mom that I was going roller-blading. I didn't like lying   
to her, but I couldn't very well tell the truth either.   
Wandering around the burnt ruins, I wondered what the Starosselskis were   
going to do with their half-burnt barn now. They certainly didn't seem to be in   
much of a hurry, whatever they were planning. I hadn't seen them even though   
I'd been on their property the last three days. As I walked around aimlessly, I   
saw Millie trot up the ladder and then disappear into the still-intact portion of the   
loft. A few seconds later she emerged into the black rubble and hopped onto the   
railing. Tail waving, she picked her way along her precarious perch towards me,   
then sat down a few yards away and looked at me. Watching her, I was reminded   
of the day before, and I decided to test the truth of Duncan's words.   
"So," I said to her, "I understand you talk. At least, that's what your friend   
Duncan tells me." She flicked an ear at me, but didn't even utter a meow. "Going   
to prove Duncan a liar?" I asked.   
The ear flicked again, and then she opened her mouth and told me, "Keep your   
nose in your own business. You're not supposed to be messing with us." I've got   
to say, I was surprised – while I had decided to believe Duncan's story, I still   
couldn't help but harbor a little doubt. I mean, my cat talking? And I never knew   
about it?   
"That's the same thing you told Duncan just the other day," I noted. "Is your   
nose out of joint?"   
"The noses of all the immortals will be out of joint if you can't keep yours to   
yourself." She gave me a nasty glare, and I glared right back. Duncan had been   
right – Millie certainly did seem skilled at making the venom fly.   
"Duncan's not here today?" I asked her in an attempt to change the subject.   
"Does it seem like Duncan's here today?" she asked.   
"I don't know," I retorted. "He could be hiding. He managed yesterday."   
"It is not in my job description to track humans." She arched her back and   
flexed her claws into the wooden railing. "They move around too much. And   
they can be extremely trying," she added pointedly.   
"And cats can be so acid," I said sweetly. I swore she grinned at me, though I   
had never seen a cat grin before. All I'll say is, she opened her mouth and   
showed me her fangs.   
"Thank you for not confirming me a liar," said a voice beside me. I whipped   
around, startled, but I knew even before I saw him that it was Duncan.   
"Don't you make noise?" I demanded. He grinned.   
"Only when I want to." I realized that neither of us was much surprised to see   
the other. Duncan almost looked like he'd been expecting to find me here. "So,   
are you enjoying being able to discuss the world with her?" he asked, nodding at   
Millie. I rolled my eyes.   
"She's every bit as pleasant as you said she was," I answered. "If you like fur-  
covered snakes." Millie hissed at me and swished her tail.   
"Someday you'll wish you'd listened to me," she informed me. "When you're   
caught in the middle and looking at your own violent and early end, you'll know   
I was only trying to help you." She glared at me again, then leaped off the railing   
onto the roof of the antique car below, and from there to the ground, then stalked   
out of the barn and out of sight. I turned to Duncan.   
"Has she got attitude issues or what?" He shrugged.   
"She's always been that way – cats tend to be like that, although she's   
particularly bad. It's just the way they are."   
We stood watching each other for a minute, Duncan looking like he wasn't   
quite sure what to do next, until I asked, "So are you like Highlander come alive,   
or what?" He laughed.   
"The idea for Highlander came from us. All the people in it are real people –   
real immortals. Some of the stuff about our pasts is inaccurate, but it's based on   
the real thing: us."   
"Aren't mortals supposed to be kept from knowing about you?" He nodded.   
"They are. But with the length of time we live and the number of fights we get   
into, sometimes one can't help but stumble across us. Like you." I frowned.   
"But then why make Highlander? Doesn't it sort of plant the idea in people's   
minds and make them think about what you might be? I mean, if you're trying to   
keep your little "clan" secret, why put it on TV?" Duncan looked at the floor.   
"It was a stupid thing to do," he said quietly. "It was a bet – a drunk bet." He   
was silent for a minute, then continued. "I was dared to become famous, and I   
did so. But I wasn't happy about it, so as revenge, I did it in a way that could   
expose immortals if they weren't even more careful than usual. Unfortunately, I   
somehow failed to realize that I was getting revenge on myself as much as on   
any other immortal."   
"Oh," was all I said. I wasn't sure how to react to that. Duncan seemed to shrug   
off his momentary shame, if that's what it was, and I noticed he looked nervous.   
"Is something wrong?" I asked him.   
"Snell's nearby," he answered. "I can sense him."   
"He's the one you're – fighting – on Saturday, right?" I asked, trying to tread   
carefully on a sensitive subject. Duncan just nodded. "Are we safe here, if he's   
so close?" He snorted.   
"It's not a question of whether we're safe – you're probably perfectly fine, as   
long as you don't annoy him. I, on the other hand, am never safe." He shook his   
head, then added, "Old Stephen never did play by the rules." I wasn't sure I liked   
the sound of that, but I hadn't really liked the sound of a lot of what he had been   
saying. It was just the immortals' way of life.   
"So how did you find Millie, anyway?" I asked. "Did you know her from   
somewhere else?" He shook his head.   
"No, I didn't," he answered. "As for how I found her, she actually found me.   
There's a mental connection the animals have with us, sort of like we human   
immortals have with each other. When one of us is nearby, they know, and can   
find us if they wish. It only works one way, though – we can't tell an immortal   
animal from a regular one."   
"How many immortal animals are there?" Duncan shrugged.   
"Anybody's best guess, really. Animals don't have watchers," he said with a   
grin.   
"But humans do?" I guessed. "They're real, too?"   
"They are, although there's an ongoing argument as to their exact purpose.   
Nobody seems to know quite what they're for, other than to take page upon page   
of notes which nobody ever uses." He shook his head, still grinning. "I'm on the   
side that they really don't have much use. Besides that, it can get a little tiring,   
knowing that someone is always stalking you – I mean, that's basically what they   
do." I grinned myself, never having thought of the watchers that way before.   
"Does anyone know how many of you human immortals there are?" I asked,   
curious. "Since you do have watchers."   
"We do have watchers," Duncan answered, "But they're the only ones who   
know. We can sense each other when we're close enough, though – you   
wouldn't believe the number of us I can feel when I'm in a busy place like New   
York city. There's more of us than you'd think."   
"So who's this Snell, anyway?" Duncan sighed.   
"He's a hunter – he's only about 250 years old, but he's killed so many that   
he's more powerful than I am. I'm his next target, although he's been taunting   
me for years and years. The thing that makes him so dangerous is that he thinks   
rules are for idiots. He's got a group of immortal friends, which I suspect is   
pretty large, and he's been known to use them to gang up on people. Of course,   
the rule about only fighting one-on-one doesn't bother him at all." He made a   
face. "That's why I think the next fight is his. If he doesn't bring his friends, I'm   
at a disadvantage – and if he does, I don't stand a chance."   
"Oh," I said, kind of wishing I hadn't asked. Duncan was convinced he was   
going to lose this fight, and I shouldn't be reminding him of it. I wouldn't want   
to be reminded that my death was this weekend.   
Suddenly I felt a claw in my arm, and a voice behind me said, "You need to go   
home." I turned around to unhook Millie's claws.   
"Why?"   
"Because your mom's wondering where you are." She didn't look pleased   
about delivering the message, but she couldn't have been too irritated, because   
obviously no one had asked her to do it.   
"Thanks, Mil," I said, then turned back to Duncan. "Sounds like I have to go," I   
said. "Bye."   
"Bye," he replied. I followed Millie out of the loft, then, as I reached the door   
of the barn, I turned back to look at Duncan.   
"Good luck with Snell," I said quietly.   
"Thanks," he answered dryly, and I left and walked slowly home.   
* * *   
I was nervous and twitchy all the rest of that day. It took me awhile to identify   
the reason, but I finally realized that it was what Duncan had said about Snell   
being near enough for him to sense. I knew Duncan wasn't safe, but was Millie   
safe? Would Snell have a reason to go after Millie? And if he somehow found   
out what Duncan had been telling me, was I even safe?   
I sat through dinner and tried my best to carry on a normal conversation, hoping   
my parents wouldn't notice that I was more than a little distracted. At least, I was   
hoping that if they noticed, they wouldn't ask about it. Luckily, they didn't. I just   
couldn't shake the feeling that fate was going to lower the boom on me, and   
soon…but what was going to happen? With all that had happened in the last   
three days, it could be anything. One thing I was sure of, it wouldn't be pleasant. 


	9. Bad Morning

I woke up on Saturday morning with the most incredible and inexplicable feeling   
of dread. While I brushed my teeth, I kept glancing over my shoulder, but I didn't   
even notice what I was doing at first. When I did catch myself, I made a face and   
addressed my reflection in the mirror.   
"What is your problem?" I asked myself, but I couldn't answer my own   
question. I shook my head, rinsed my toothbrush, and went back to my bedroom   
to get dressed. I jumped a foot in the air when Millie hopped into my t-shirt   
drawer, then tripped over a box as I came down and ended up on the floor,   
rubbing my bottom where I had landed. Millie laughed.   
"What's got you so worked up?" she asked curiously. "Something going on I   
don't know about?"   
"If there's something going on, I don't seem to know about it either," I   
answered. I managed to get ready without any more mishaps, until I tried to make   
my bed. That was a disaster in itself. First I tripped and hit my ankle on the   
bedpost, then I knocked over the glass of water sitting on the table as I walked   
around the bed to make the other side. I cleaned up the water and returned the   
glass to shelf, then just stood in the middle of the room, hoping nothing could   
happen if I stayed still. Then I sighed. This was silly – I couldn't stand here all   
day, just because I didn't want to trip over anything else. Leaving my room, I   
opened the door into my head, and was finally forced to laugh at my own   
misfortune. Walking down the stairs – very carefully, as I wanted to walk down   
and not fall down – I thought, 'Looks like this day's going to be just great.' I   
hadn't had a morning like that since…well, actually, I didn't remember ever   
having a morning like that.   
"Good morning," mom greeted me when I reached the kitchen. "How are you?"   
"I don't know where it is," I answered distractedly. I didn't realize what I'd said   
until mom gave me a strange look. I thought for a minute, then remembered her   
question. "Uh, good morning," I said. "I'm a walking disaster. And you?"   
"Better than you, I hope."   
I realized that my clumsiness was beginning to feel more like it was caused by   
distraction than by true ineptness. But what on earth could distract me so   
thoroughly that I stood a good chance of killing myself?   
Duncan, I thought, finally managing to answer my own question. Since I had   
landed in the middle of his fight with Theodore the other day, I hadn't been able   
to think of anything else. However, it hadn't affected me like this yet – why now?   
* * *   
By early afternoon, I couldn't take myself anymore. My clumsiness had let up a   
little, but I still gave people random answers to seemingly simple questions. I   
gave mom the roller-blading excuse again, and headed for the barn. This was   
starting to seem routine, I thought with a mental laugh. This would be my fourth   
time in this barn in four days.   
When I reached the Starosselski's land, I crept cautiously towards the barn,   
keeping alert for any sounds or movements. I reached the barn, went inside, and   
slipped up the ladder and all the way around the loft to the scorched section,   
searching for…what?   
Finding nothing, I left the barn. Walking slowly outside and into the woods   
beyond, I thought about what a stupid thing it was for me to be doing, to be   
looking for a fight between two immortals. I didn't even know why I was doing it.   
However, I didn't intend to let myself be caught, or even seen. So where was the   
harm? Really, it wouldn't be that dangerous… 


	10. Stephen Snell

Warning: this is where the rating kicks in. It's a fight scene, which of course in   
Highlander means blood. Enjoy!   
  
I'd gone maybe a hundred yards into the woods when I heard footsteps ahead of   
me. I froze, alert, and listened carefully. They seemed to be moving slowly, as if   
waiting for something, or looking for something. I moved forwards a little, in the   
direction of the sound. I peeked around a tree, and saw Duncan up ahead aways,   
moving very cautiously in the opposite direction, walking slowly, as if he was   
expecting to be attacked.   
I came out from behind my tree and followed him at a distance. Suddenly he   
stopped and looked around, like he'd sensed something – or someone. Then he   
walked behind another tree and disappeared, and I hurried toward the spot where   
he'd turned. I looked around, and saw that he'd gone into a little clearing (little,   
as in maybe only ten by ten feet, if even that) and had stopped in the middle of it,   
his hand on the sword that I could now see he carried under his trench coat. I   
knew that he carried a sword, of course, but he hid it well.   
He seemed to sense my presence, and looked in my direction. When he saw me,   
he at first seemed almost relieved – that I wasn't the enemy, I guess – but then he   
became angry.   
"You shouldn't be here!" he hissed at me. "You're already in danger, even   
more if you stay here! Leave, now. I don't want you to have to see this."   
I knew at that point that I really should leave, but before I could even turn   
around, my feeling from that morning came back stronger than ever – dread,   
combined with a sense, so strong that it defied any logical explanation, that I was   
supposed to be here. I found I couldn't go, could barely move a step in the   
opposite direction, so I turned back and faced him.   
"I have to stay," I said softly. "I can't explain, but I have to stay – I just can't   
leave."   
"Go!" he said, more urgently. "Just go!"   
"I told you," I replied. "I can't just go."   
He was about to protest again, but a rustling noise behind him made him swing   
around. A man came out of the woods into the clearing, a fairly tall man, wearing   
a trench coat and an expression of such evil disgust and loathing that I could only   
guess this was the enemy. The look on Duncan's face confirmed that.   
The man had small eyes and a thin face that looked like it was accustomed to   
this expression, and his crew cut only made him look more sinister.   
"Well, well, well," said the man with a friendly smile that didn't reach his cold   
eyes. "MacLeod." He spat the name out like it was acid. "We meet again."   
"Aye, we meet again," agreed Duncan grimly, eyeing him. "Stephen Snell." He   
spat the name out like just like Snell had done.   
"How have you been, anyway?" asked Snell with very false interest. "It's been   
a long time. What have you been doing? I hope you haven't been beaten up too   
badly." He had drawn his sword and was twirling it in flashing circles. Shards of   
sunlight sprayed from the blade, reflecting on the circle of trees defining the   
clearing. The picture it created was fatally beautiful.   
"Not nearly as badly as you're about to be," Duncan retorted with a wicked   
smile on his face.   
"How's Tessa?" asked Snell. "That beautiful girl…you always did get all the   
pretty women, Mac. Ah, well, once your head is mine, Tessa will be mine as   
well." I wondered who Tessa was – it sounded like she was Duncan's lover.   
Whoever she was, if Duncan did lose this fight, I felt bad for her.   
"Tessa is dead," Duncan snapped. "And I don't think she would like you much   
if she were alive."   
"A pity," replied Snell with a dramatic sigh. "But I suppose your head is   
enough of a prize. Any last wishes? You could tell any one of these trees, and   
hope they care about you more than I do. No? Nothing else to say before you   
depart?"   
"I wouldn't count on my 'departing' just yet if I were you, Snell," Duncan   
answered, glaring at him. "You really shouldn't be quite so confident. It might   
land you in trouble some time."   
Duncan was doing a remarkably good job concealing his nervousness. If I   
hadn't known before what a literally fatalistic attitude he'd had about this fight,   
I'd never have guessed it.   
"If you ask me," Snell cackled softly, "you're in more trouble right now than I   
will ever be. You should be taking your own advice." His laugh made me   
shudder.   
"Should I, now?" Duncan answered. "I suppose that means you'll have to take   
your own medicine, too? I wouldn't want to leave you out of this little game."   
"You watch your step, man, or you're going to be gone before you feel my   
blade," Snell whispered in a dangerous voice. The two men were circling slowly   
around the space now, always facing each other, hands on the hilts of their   
swords.   
"So you think," Duncan growled. "I haven't been around for four hundred years   
through pure luck."   
With a swishing of metal on metal, they both drew their swords; Duncan   
looking grim, Snell smiling meanly. "Say goodbye…" he whispered – and they   
started to fight.   
It was really something to watch; first one had the advantage, then the other –   
metal clanged on metal as they both sought to get around the other's defense, but   
each was too skilled to let the other through. Sparks flew as the blades scraped   
down each other, highlighting the men's faces with an orange glow that gave the   
whole scene an eerie, surreal quality. Several times the blades of their swords   
barely missed, and took out instead great chunks of tree bark, once even a branch   
that narrowly missed Duncan as it plummeted. They were sweating hard and   
going dizzyingly fast – I don't know how they maintained that speed for more   
than a minute or two.   
Every now and then one or the other would get in an almost hit, but their sword   
would be blocked at the last second, only managing to clip the opponent.   
I lost track of how long they kept at it, though it seemed like forever. Crouched   
behind a tree, just watching them, images blended together in my head, swirling   
like fog. There was sunlight flashing off the sword blades, the sparks that swirled   
around them, little puffs of dirt that flew up as their feet dug into the forest floor,   
the long coats they wore that followed them in their own skirling patterns…and   
laced through it all was blood that ran from the cuts both men had received. It all   
combined to create a magical effect that had me enthralled until I blinked and   
shook my head to get rid of it.   
They were apparently not tiring; or if they were, they were hiding it well. Then   
Snell got around Duncan's defense at the bottom and whacked his leg with the   
flat of his blade. I heard a sickening crunch as Duncan's knee broke, and he fell   
to the ground, his face twisted in agony. Horror swept through me, leaving me   
ice cold even in the heat of summer. What Duncan had been afraid of looked to   
be coming true.   
'Oh, no,' I thought frantically. 'No, no. Something happen to Snell, anything.   
This can't just end like this.' But it looked like it was going to, as Snell took   
advantage of Duncan's weakness and stabbed him viciously several times in the   
stomach, his blade going all the way through Duncan and into the tree he leaned   
against. I looked away in disgust, but looked back a moment later because I   
couldn't not watch. Blood poured from Duncan's new wounds, turning his white   
shirt a brilliant red. He moaned, and tried to stand up, but he could barely move.   
I winced, and swallowed hard, trying not to think too much about the pain he   
must have been in.   
By that time, Snell had several deep slashes across his face and along his arms,   
giving his skin an interesting striped pattern. Duncan did too, along with a   
particularly vicious gash from his forehead to his left ear.   
Duncan slumped back against the tree, his face paste white, still trying to put up   
a fight, holding his sword in his right hand. But he was weak, and it wasn't long   
before he was too tired to keep going. His sword fell to the ground, his hand still   
gripped loosely on the hilt. Snell rested his blade against Duncan's neck,   
apparently savoring the moment.   
"Well, MacLeod," he said. "You fought bravely, especially knowing you'd   
never win. I'll give you credit for that. But four centuries is long enough –   
you've been living on borrowed time. So I'm afraid I still have to end it here."   
He twitched the blade menacingly, then started to swing it back for the kill.   
Suddenly the horror and revulsion I had been feeling surged, then flared into   
anger. Shooting to my feet, I gasped in shock at the power of this new emotion. I   
had felt angry before, of course, but this was fury so strong it almost seemed to   
have a mind of its own, so I really could refer to it as an emotion I'd never felt   
before. I think it was a combination of absolute rage and the effects of sitting still   
during an adrenaline rush. Once I got my breath back, I discovered I was   
shaking. A sensible part of me could tell that somehow, in some way, I was   
losing control, but that last plea from my good judgement was overrun and   
quickly disappeared.   
Watching Snell prepare to take Duncan's head, I realized I couldn't let this   
happen. I couldn't just stand there and watch this brave man, who'd never hurt   
anyone out of evil in his life, my new friend, be killed. Snell had his back to me,   
unaware that anyone was there but him and Duncan, so I snuck out of my hiding   
place and crept silently up behind him. I then steeled myself, focusing my anger,   
stood up straight and gave Snell a swinging punch to the side of the head, as hard   
as I could.   
With a yell of surprise, Snell swung around, sword in hand, staggering slightly   
from the punch, and I hit the deck just in time – his blade swished through the air   
where I had been only milli-seconds before. He turned his head left and right,   
searching for the person who had punched him. Then he looked down and saw   
me scrambling up from the ground, and his face split into that old evil grin.   
"My, my," he said to me. "Mac's little girlfriend, is it? You must be Tessa's   
replacement. How nice. Thought you could be the hero and save your sweetheart   
here? Well, you've given him an extra minute – if that. Satisfied?"   
I stood up slowly, giving him the glare I was so good at that always scared   
Alex. "You need watch your ass better, you bastard," I told him, while trying   
unsuccessfully to keep from blushing at his implication that Duncan and I were   
more than friends. I heard Duncan snort behind me, but I ignored him for the   
moment. Snell had managed, in about two sentences, to make me even madder.   
"Nice language, dearie. Tough, aren't we?" Snell said lazily, apparently almost   
enjoying being challenged by someone who really had no chance against him.   
"What's this 'we' business?" I snarled at him. "Speak for yourself. And for   
future reference, not that I think you have a future to reference, nobody calls me   
'dearie' twice."   
His eyes narrowed; he was starting to get mad – good, that's what I wanted.   
Since he was inevitably going to kill us both anyway, I figured I'd at least make   
him good and mad, so he couldn't enjoy it so much.   
"You two," he growled in disgust, "are both too full of advice for your own   
good. I really don't feel like listening to this anymore. So I guess I'll just kill you   
right now, then maybe you won't have to suffer!" And he swung his sword   
around.   
I saw it coming, heading straight for my neck, and I dived away. He missed   
hurting me seriously, but I felt the tip of the blade graze my face, opening up a   
deep gash from the side of my forehead to the bottom of my jaw.   
I immediately sprang back up, shaking the blood off my face, and saw him try   
again. This time I leaned all the way over backwards, (thank you, dance training)   
and the long piece of dangerous glittering metal swished harmlessly over me.   
Before he could swing at me a third time, I straightened up and drove a   
roundhouse kick into his right side. I heard a crack, but it was like sticking a bull   
with a shish kabob skewer – not enough to hurt it, but enough to make it mad.   
I gradually ducked and kicked my way over to stand in front of Duncan, so that   
Snell wouldn't try to attack him while his defense was down. (Not that I could do   
much about it if he did.) I was a little surprised that Snell hadn't killed me yet,   
but I figured that I was fresh, rested, and furious, while Snell was tired and a   
little annoyed.   
I heard Duncan say something behind me, but I didn't hear what it was as Snell   
swung again, this time at my ankles, and I jumped in the air to avoid being hit.   
As I jumped, I went flying around and tried to kick his head, but he blocked my   
foot, and I flew off course. I was forced to do some stupid flying flip turn to   
avoid landing on Duncan, and I landed off balance and clocked my head on a   
tree before regaining my footing.   
"What'd you say?" I muttered out of the corner of my mouth, and moved so   
that I could see Duncan without turning my head away from Snell.   
"I said," he replied in a raspy croak, "take this." And he held out his sword.   
That caught me off my guard more than a surprise move from Snell ever could.   
"But – why?" I asked, throwing myself sideways as a blow was aimed at my   
ribs. I rolled back towards Duncan as Snell advanced, twirling his weapon   
menacingly.   
"Because I'm in no position to fight, and you're proving yourself very good."   
Sweat trickled down his face, and I could see the words were costing him   
precious energy, but I didn't have time to worry about it. "And you need a   
weapon if you want to win."   
"But I've never tried fencing in my life!" I protested. "I'd probably hurt myself   
more than anything else. I think I'm doing better with traditional Karate."   
"I have confidence in you," he told me, giving me a piercing stare I found kind   
of creepy. "I really think you can handle it. Here, take it."   
I reached out slowly and took the sword from his grasp. "You're sure about   
this?" I asked.   
"Positive."   
I put my hand on the silver hilt, and lifted the gleaming blade. It was all silver,   
with a vine design twining around the hilt, around a deep red jewel set in the   
crossbar. The name MacLeod was etched into the blade. It was surprisingly light.   
I stood up straight and swished it back and forth a couple of times to get the feel   
of it, then pointed it at Snell.   
"Now I'm armed, too," I said with a half smile. "You might want to be a bit   
more careful."   
"Ha!" he snorted derisively. "I doubt you could even sprain my ankle with that   
thing. I heard you saying you'd never tried fencing – you still don't have a   
chance."   
"Wanna bet?"   
"Love to!" he said gleefully. "You'll both be dead in two minutes, anyway."   
"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," I spat, and swung.   
He blocked my swing neatly and took a swing of his own, but Duncan's sword   
was light enough that I was able to pull it back and crouch then thrust it upwards.   
It hit Snell's blade and there was a ringing sound as the blades scraped down   
each other, sending sparks flying everywhere. I quickly stood up again, leaned   
sideways to avoid a thrust at my head, and before he had a chance to pull back,   
aimed for his feet.   
He yanked his right foot out of the path of danger, but he obviously couldn't   
yank both feet at the same time, and I just got his left boot. I didn't manage to   
actually hurt his foot, but I did slice the toe of his boot open.   
He glanced down, I guess to see what the strange feeling in his foot was, then   
jerked back up and sliced at me again. I guess he was surprised that I'd managed   
to even touch him. I leaned back to avoid getting diced, but not far enough, and   
he put a huge slash across my stomach, leaving my shirt partially shredded and   
soaked with blood. I doubled over, clutching my stomach with my left arm, still   
pointing the sword forward towards Snell with my right. I knew he could hurt me   
much more seriously if he felt like it, but he was only toying with me – he wasn't   
playing for keeps. 'Huh,' I thought. 'I don't know if that's good or bad.' Then I   
made myself stand back up and keep going, trying to ignore the pain I was in.   
He pulled his sword back to stab straight at me, and I held my blade to the right.   
I stood still, pretending I didn't know what he was going to do. When he stabbed,   
I stepped to the right, cut down on his sword sending more sparks flying, then   
swung forward and just grazed his left ear.   
He swung back immediately so I didn't have time to step back out of the way,   
and his sword scraped all the way down my left arm, leaving a deep bleeding cut   
from the top of my shoulder to my knuckles.   
I stared at my arm for a second, then swung back and cut him across the right   
cheek. Once again, I barely gave him more than a scratch. I was starting to get   
frustrated – I was no good with a sword, didn't have a clue what I was doing, and   
here I was trying to beat up an unnaturally old expert. This was ridiculous.   
As I was thinking about this, Snell seemed to suddenly realize that I'd managed   
to get in three hits, or close hits, and his temper flared. He started going after me   
at lightning speed. Earlier, when I had been watching Snell and Duncan fighting,   
it had looked pretty fast, but I hadn't realized just how fast until now. 'Uh oh,' I   
thought, suddenly beginning to understand what that feeling of dread had been   
about. 'What now? I'll never survive this – I'm bad enough when he's not   
fighting seriously.'   
Just then the strangest feeling swept over me, mostly a tingling sensation that   
ran down both my arms, but it was in the rest of my body, too. A lone spark flew   
off the blade of the sword in my hand, and I'd have sworn I saw it glow, just for   
a split second. And suddenly, it was as if I'd had years of fencing lessons – I   
couldn't explain it, but I knew how to swordfight. The MacLeod blade felt   
natural in my hand, not at all like it had before. Now I felt like I knew everything   
it could do, how to use it to its fullest extent. I suddenly felt I could fight Snell on   
equal ground.   
I noticed then, with a slight start, that when the spark had flown off the sword   
blade, Duncan had lost consciousness and fallen over sideways. It struck me as a   
little strange at first, but I realized he had probably lost a lot of blood from the   
wounds in his stomach. I knew he'd be better soon, and I didn't give it a second   
thought, except to avoid stepping on him.   
Snell was swiping and whacking and slicing from all angles, but I took the   
sword in both hands and blocked it all without having to think, although it was   
still just as much effort – my brain may have suddenly known what it was doing,   
but my arms weren't used to that sort of treatment. I'd say I was doing a darn   
good job, actually, despite the strangeness of it all, but after about five minutes –   
that seemed like five hours – my arms were starting to give. (I think they'd have   
given before that, but at that point I was running on adrenaline – and when I'm   
running on adrenaline, nothing and no one can stop me.) Then suddenly I felt a   
fiery pain shoot up my right leg. "Dammit!" I yelped as I stumbled backwards. I   
realized Snell had used the same move on me that he'd used on Duncan, but he'd   
hit my leg in a different place, and had broken something below my knee. I   
ended up sitting on the ground, but I remembered what would happen if I leaned   
against a tree as Duncan had, and I leaned forward instead, using my body   
weight to stand up on my left leg. The pain in my right leg brought a huge wave   
of nausea over me, and for a moment I was sure I was going to lose whatever   
was in my stomach, but I clamped my mouth shut and somehow kept my lunch   
down.   
Snell stood in front of me, his sword point resting on the ground before him.   
"Give up yet?" he asked tauntingly. "You know you're tired. You can't hold out   
all day, despite your apparent beginner's luck with a sword." He gave me that   
humorless smile again, and that all-consuming anger bubbled to the surface.   
He'd almost killed my friend, and I was suddenly determined to run him through.   
"No!" I hissed, gritting my teeth against the pain in my leg. "I won't give up!   
I'm not a quitter. This is a fight to the end, whether it's yours or mine!"   
"Save yourself," I heard Duncan croak. He was still lying on the ground, but he   
had opened one eye to look at us. "This isn't your battle." How could he resign   
himself to his fate like that? I wondered. I was too distracted to notice how truly   
awful he looked, although when I thought about it later I could picture him   
clearly: he was soaked in sweat, totally drained of life, and his face was dead   
white with a slight greenish cast.   
"No way," I retorted. "If you really think I'll give up now, you're out of your   
tiny mind."   
"Listen," he insisted, "You're lucky to even be in one piece at this point, (I   
didn't bother to point out to him that one of my legs wasn't in one piece) and to   
put it bluntly, you don't stand a chance. I shouldn't have let you get yourself in   
this far. So what I'm saying is, get out now."   
"Shut up!" I snapped at him. "Just shut up!" I immediately felt bad for taking   
my temper out on him, but I was angry, I was in pain, and he was irritating me.   
"You can't stop me, so don't even try." I hefted my sword and swung at Snell   
with a force that surprised even me. He still had his sword point in the dirt and   
couldn't block me in time, and I heard bones cracking as I hit his right arm. His   
face twisted, with rage or pain or a combination of the two, and he switched   
sword hands and swung right back at me. I ducked, and his blade swished   
through empty air. As the zinging of the metal passed inches from my head, I   
thought, 'I can do this. I'm going to see this thing through – all the way through,   
farther than Snell's going see it.'   
I went after Snell full force, forgetting everything else – Duncan, my multiple   
deep slashes, even my broken leg, although I still didn't try to stand on it. But I   
did just fine with one leg, and I realized something I'd wondered about earlier,   
before I made my appearance and punched Snell. I'd puzzled over how people   
could keep fighting for so long – now I felt the answer rather than saw it:   
adrenaline and rage. 'Duncan must have a hell of a grudge against Snell to fight   
like he does,' I thought vaguely as I forced Snell back across the clearing.   
Then Snell slipped out of my range and got behind me, on the opposite side of   
the clearing, and came charging right at me. I decided to trick him. I turned my   
back to him and put my sword arm forwards, so it looked like I was leaning   
against a tree, and held my right leg behind me, ready for action. Just as he came   
within range of me, I spun around, sword out, and caught him by surprise. His   
sword was deflected upwards, cutting through my hair elastic and letting my hair   
down all over my sweaty face, while my sword went right around until it was   
resting against his neck.   
I think I was just as shocked as he was that I had managed to do that. He   
opened his mouth to say something, but was apparently speechless, because he   
closed it again without making a noise. I thought of something he'd said only   
minutes ago, and got over my shock long enough to grin at him through the   
mixture of sweat and blood running down my face. "Beginner's luck with a   
sword, eh?" I asked him. He just glared at me.   
I knew better than to look away for long, but I dared a glance at Duncan to see   
what to do next. He was mildly surprised, (I think he was too wiped out for any   
emotion stronger than that) but also a bit pleased, at the position I was in.   
I shot him a look to say, 'what now that I'm here?'   
"Kill him," he said simply.   
I paused. Me? Kill somebody? I had been determined to run him through, but   
despite my anger that caused me to fight like I did, I guess I wasn't really   
thinking about what the grand finale would be – that after I killed him, he would   
be gone. He would be well and truly dead, and not coming back.   
"But"- I sputtered. I was anything else, maybe even crazy, but not a killer. I   
didn't think I could do it. I looked back at Duncan for help, but he was looking   
right above my head, and I thought I saw fear in his eyes. I looked up, too, and   
saw with a jolt what he was looking at: Snell had realized that his sword had   
actually been forced up and over my head, and he was bringing the glittering   
blade down, aiming right for the middle of my head, and there was no way for   
me to duck.   
In that split second, I realized I had no choice – and I took Snell's head. 


	11. Mortal Quickening

I'll try not to slip up with the name thing again, but if I do, go ahead and point it   
out so I can fix it!   
* * *   
There was a momentary look of utter shock on his face, before he keeled over   
backwards and hit the ground with a thud. I paused, my eyes still being assaulted   
by the bluish-white light that poured from Snell's severed neck – his power,   
everything that had made him immortal. Then I looked down at his decapitated   
body, laced with dancing lightnings, with mixed feelings – he was the bad guy,   
and now he was dead…that was good. But I was astounded by the fact that I had   
just taken someone else's life. I had killed another person. And that meant I was   
now a murderer!   
As I stood there, frozen in shock at what I had just done, still holding Duncan's   
sword out in front of me, my numb brain suddenly realized that something was   
wrong. The clearing was starting to flash with the eerie blue light of a   
Quickening, little fizzing lines of energy dancing up the sword blade like spiders.   
I had thought that Duncan would get Snell's power, since he was the nearest   
immortal. But the lightning seemed to have no interest in Duncan, or even to be   
aware that he was there…it was heading for me instead.   
'Maybe,' I thought, 'since I did the killing, it has to go through me first,   
before…it can hit…Duncan…' I lost my train of thought as I struggled to let go   
of the sword that was striated with sizzling lights. I tried to yank my hands away,   
but they were stuck firmly to the hilt. Starting to panic, I pulled harder, vaguely   
noticing that I was becoming dizzy. Then suddenly the first bolt of energy hit   
me, making my head spin with the sheer force of it, and I couldn't think anymore   
– forget panic. I staggered sideways to avoid keeling over right on top of Snell.   
There was light everywhere, and a sort of buzzing sound in the air, as I got hit a   
second time, then a third. I was picked up by some powerful force and slammed   
backwards into a tree. Then it let go, and I slid all the way to the bottom before   
being lifted into the air again and flipped several times like a pancake. As I was   
flying through the air, I watched the trees spin into odd-colored blurs, the sight   
making me slightly sick. Then they disappeared, and I was dropped again, and   
fell twenty feet and hit the ground with a smack. For some reason I felt no pain,   
though I knew the fall must have hurt. I was on my knees on the ground, leaning   
back like some modern dance move, facing the sky…half watching what was   
going on around me…I was only partially conscious at that point, but I could see   
through a haze what looked like lightning connecting with the tips of my fingers   
and being sucked into my body. It danced up my arms, around my head, before   
disappearing into my skin. The MacLeod sword was still glued to my hand, and I   
couldn't drop it. The lightning seemed to be taking over control of my body. It   
was like I was suspended by something I couldn't see or touch – like I was   
suspended by the storm. My body had become a puppet that the storm could do   
anything with…and yet I somehow wasn't afraid. The storm had my complete   
trust, even though I wasn't quite sure what it was.   
I got hit again, and it was as though my whole body was on fire…I was burning   
up. I tried to scream, but for some reason I didn't hear it. Then I got hit one last   
time, and it was as if someone had drained everything out of me that was left.   
The storm's electric grip ceased without warning, and I collapsed face first,   
fighting to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle. My last sight was of the tip   
of the sword coming to rest on Duncan's limp wrist – and then I blacked out. 


	12. Goodbye

When I came to, I was still in the same place, lying on my front with my head   
turned sideways. I opened my eyes. Duncan was kneeling next to me, looking   
concerned.   
"Kat?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice. "Can you hear me?"   
"Yes," I muttered groggily. "What's going on? What happened?"   
"I'll tell you in a little while," he answered me. "First I want to be sure you're   
ok. Can you move properly?" I moved my head, then stretched out the rest of my   
body and rolled onto my back so I could see him better.   
"Yeah," I said. "I can move ok. Well, except for my broken leg, of course."   
"Can you sit up?" He held out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me upright.   
My head started to spin again, but not as badly as before, and I stayed sitting.   
All that had happened before I'd lost consciousness came flooding back, and I   
looked around, but there was no trace of the freak Quickening. I looked up at   
Duncan, who was now standing in front of me, with all his weight on his left leg.   
"I don't stand a chance, huh?" I asked with an attempt at a grin. "Where do you   
get ideas like that? I have more adrenaline in my veins than blood."   
"I guess so," he admitted. "That was quite something, I have to say. You're a   
natural with deadly weapons."   
"I suppose I'll take that as a compliment. By the way, I'm sorry I snapped at   
you earlier. I know you were just trying to help, but I was beyond help at that   
point. All I cared about was that Snell and his obnoxious attitude be gone. What   
an asshole he was." I shook my head.   
"You know," Duncan said, "You shouldn't let obnoxious attitudes like that   
make you so mad. I mean, you certainly did do a good job, but that could get you   
into trouble…especially if you're going to be"- he stopped suddenly, as if he'd   
almost said something he shouldn't have.   
"What?" I asked. "If I'm going to be what? A nut? A sword-fighter? A karate   
master? Someone who gets into situations she shouldn't?"   
"I'll tell you later," he said with a wink. I was suspicious, but I let it go. If he   
said he would tell me later, he would – I trusted him.   
"So anyway, how're you?" I asked him. "You looked about ready to die the last   
time I saw you."   
"I'm already a lot better," he replied. "As you can see. That feeling of being   
ready to die has passed away, thank goodness. No pun intended," he added with   
a snort. "How're you feeling?"   
"Like crap," I answered dryly. "What else would I be feeling? Sick, actually," I   
added, feeling myself turn green as a fresh wave of pain ran up my leg. "What in   
bloody hell just happened?"   
"Again, I'll tell you later," he said with that infuriating smirk. I let that one go,   
too, (barely) but decided that if he said that one more time, he wouldn't get away   
with it. I was about to warn him of that decision, when I caught sight of Snell   
lying in the dirt, and changed my question. "What's going to happen to him?" I   
asked, looking away from the body in question. Now that I was no longer in the   
heat of the fight, the sight of Snell's headless body, and the knowledge that I had   
put him in that condition, were a bit much.   
"His band of friends will come and take him away," he sighed. "They'll know   
he's been killed. The thing is, when they figure it out, they may well want   
revenge."   
"But how could they figure out who killed him?"   
"I'm currently the only immortal around here," he answered. I thought I saw a   
strange look pass over his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and   
I couldn't be sure. "Although that may change in the near future. And most   
mortals wouldn't know to behead him."   
I though about that for a minute. There was something strange in what he said,   
and remembering the fleeting look I thought I saw made it even weirder, but I   
couldn't fit the pieces of the puzzle together just yet. "Although that may change   
in the near future." What was that supposed to mean? "Oh," was all I said. I sat   
there trying to figure out what to do next. I was feeling better, so I decided to see   
if I could stand. I leaned forward and put my hands on the ground, pulled my feet   
– well, my left foot – under me, and straightened up. I was very dizzy, and I   
swayed violently where I stood, so I leaned against a tree to support me.   
Duncan leaned down and picked up his sword. "You did a good job," he said.   
"I'm impressed."   
"Thanks," I said. I realized too late that talking was a mistake, and I leaned over   
and lost the rest of my lunch. 'I shouldn't have spared Snell that,' I thought with   
disgust. Duncan came over and rested his hand on the back of my head. I wiped   
my mouth on my sleeve, then turned to look at him. "Sorry," I muttered,   
blushing.   
"It's ok," he said, patting my shoulder. "Actually, I did the same thing the first   
time I killed someone."   
"You did?" I asked. I don't know why I was surprised – maybe because I'd   
never thought of him as a young person – but whatever the reason, that did make   
me feel somewhat better.   
"Yes, I did," he replied. "There was a time when even I had never killed   
anybody," he added with a smile. I smiled back, because of course that was just   
what I had been thinking.   
He wiped his sword on his jeans, studied it, then slipped it back into its   
scabbard. Then he limped over to Snell and bent down to look at him, an   
expression of pure disgust on his face. "Goodbye for the last time, Stephen   
Snell," he muttered. "And good riddance."   
I carefully pushed away from the tree and stood on my own, even though I still   
swayed quite a bit.   
Duncan turned to me. "You think you can walk?" he asked me. "We can go   
slowly, but we need to get out of here, in case Snell's little band of followers   
shows up. We'll just go back to the barn."   
"I think I can manage," I told him. "I should be able to make it."   
He limped over to me, and we set off through the woods together. We must   
have made quite the pair: me not only limping but also so dizzy I looked dead   
drunk, and Duncan limping also. As we walked, something was bothering me,   
tickling at the back of my brain, but at first I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I   
realized that it was the obvious question – how had I beaten Snell? Where had   
that strange feeling of knowing how to fight come from? The closest I'd ever   
come to a sword before that was when I was seven, and Dad had let me touch the   
handle of his Marines sword. I'd been scared of it back then, and the handle was   
the closest I'd wanted to come to it. So I found it impossibly weird the way I'd   
pulled fighting knowledge out of somewhere. Enough to beat Snell, which was   
impressive in itself. 'I'll ask Duncan about it later,' I told myself. I didn't feel   
like asking anyone anything just then.   
We'd been walking no more than five minutes when suddenly I heard a   
gravelly voice say in my ear, "Good-for-nothing bitch. Hurt my master and you   
pay," followed immediately by a stabbing pain from my back through my chest.   
Someone had snuck up behind us and put a knife in me.   
"What the hell. Duncan!" I gasped, trying to warn him, before falling flat on my   
face in the dry leaves of the forest floor. Trying to scream from the pain, I only   
managed to gurgle, and I realized I was choking on my own blood. As I fell,   
somehow I knew that the stab had been lethal, and I probably only had a few   
seconds to live. No! I thought desperately, as images of my mom, my dad, my   
cats, and my friends flashed before my eyes. My world was suddenly ending – I   
couldn't believe it. 'I went through all that crap with Snell,' I thought, 'To come   
to an end like this?' I gasped for breath out of instinct, even though I knew it   
wouldn't do any good. The pain of the knife faded into oblivion as I continued to   
gag. The world was fading fast. I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything   
beyond my own coughing – and then I couldn't hear anything at all. 


	13. Millie

Ok, yeah, I overdid the foreshadowing in the last chapter…I'll try to keep that in   
check in future. Don't want to give away too much!   
To MorganaPendragon: I don't think we'll see Methos in this story…if we do, it   
won't be for a while. We might see him later in the series – but for now, I'm not   
using a lot of the Highlander characters.   
This is where my rule-changes become obvious - I've made the rules of immortals  
fit this story. I kind of had to - you'll see why eventually.   
  
When I woke up, I smelled dirt. 'I didn't think heaven would smell like dirt,' I   
thought vaguely. It puzzled me, so I opened my eyes. I saw dirt. 'Strange,' I   
thought, my head still a bit foggy. 'Heaven not only smells like dirt, it looks like   
dirt, too.' I tried to shake the fuzz out of my brain and decide what my next move   
would be. 'I'll see what else there is to see besides dirt.'   
With an effort, I managed to roll over. There were trees, with blue sky above   
them. It looked like I was in the middle of a forest. No clouds or angels, but that   
was ok with me – I liked forests better anyway. 'If this is death, it's not so bad,' I   
thought idly. Then I heard a rustling noise in the leaves that covered this forest   
floor, near my head. I guessed I wasn't as alone as I'd first thought – but who   
else would be here? Angels wouldn't rustle in the leaves, would they? Then   
again, since heaven turned out to be a forest, why shouldn't angels make noise   
when they walked? It made sense. Only the face that appeared in my vision,   
leaning over me, wasn't an angel. That much I could tell. Even if angels did   
rustle, they wouldn't be so scratched, with dirt and blood smeared over their   
faces. Besides, I knew this face – and I knew that when I died, I'd left the person   
it belonged to alive.   
"Duncan?" I said, as much to test my voice as anything else. "What are you   
doing here?"   
"What am I doing here?" he asked with a slight laugh. "What's that supposed to   
mean?" It was him, all right – I'd know that voice anywhere by now.   
"Are you dead, too?" I asked.   
"Am I dead?" he repeated. "No. Thanks to you, I'm not. Why do you ask?"   
"If you're not dead, how did you get into heaven?" I still wasn't putting things   
together.   
"Who says I'm in heaven?"   
"Nobody said it, it's just logic: I'm in heaven, and you're standing over me, so   
you must be in heaven too."   
Suddenly he laughed. "I have some explaining to do," he told me. "I'm not in   
heaven, and you're not either. You can't be in heaven, because you're not dead."   
"How can I not be dead? I was stabbed and killed! In other words, I'm dead!"   
Instead of continuing to argue, he held out his hand to me, and when I took it,   
he pulled me upright. I got a better view of the forest sitting up, and I suddenly   
recognized it as the forest where I'd been stabbed. "You're right, I'm not dead,"   
I said to Duncan. "But how's that possible?"   
He reached down and shook my hand. "Congratulations," he told me with a   
smile.   
"On what? You aren't making any sense. First you insist I'm not dead, now   
you're congratulating me. On not being dead? Can't you explain first?"   
"Sorry," he apologized. "I can see your confusion. So, let me explain:   
congratulations on becoming immortal!"   
"I must be dead after all," was my reply. "I'm not immortal – I am, or was, a   
normal person. You're the immortal." But while I was talking, the pieces of the   
puzzle started to fit themselves together, and I began to see the picture.   
"Ohmigod, is that what you were talking about earlier, when you said, "Although   
that may change in the near future"? And those two times that you said, "I'll tell   
you later"?" It was starting to make sense, but I was beginning to doubt my own   
capacity for logical reasoning at that point, so I still wasn't completely   
convinced.   
"Exactly right," he said. "You don't miss much, do you? You see, I never   
explained how people become immortal, and you never asked." He paused, then   
continued. "Becoming an immortal actually requires two things: first, the mortal   
has to have the chance to become immortal, and then they need to seal it. You   
get the chance by beheading an immortal, and you seal it, as it were, by being   
killed."   
It took a minute for that to sink in. Duncan's words from earlier echoed in my   
head. "Although that may change in the near future," I heard him saying, and   
suddenly it clicked. I even dared, for the moment at least, to believe in my own   
brainpower once more. "You mean," I asked, dumbfounded, "that I really did   
just become an immortal?"   
"Right!" he said, smiling at me.   
"Oh my god. I can't believe it," I muttered. I slapped myself to be sure I hadn't   
fallen asleep. I hadn't. Then something occurred to me. "What was it that   
knocked me out, anyway?" I asked. "After I killed Snell. Was that some sort of   
demented Quickening or something?"   
"You're partially right," he said to me. "It was a Quickening, yes – but not a   
demented one. That was a full-blown Quickening you just experienced."   
"Wow," I said, pulling a face. "If I ever have another Quickening – will it be as   
bad as that one? Because it wouldn't be safe for an immortal to get knocked out   
after they killed somebody."   
"No, it won't be," he assured me. "They'll always be overpowering and   
uncontrollable, but they'll get better, for two reasons: one, the first one is always   
while you're still mortal; and two, you just plain get used to it."   
"I sure hope so," I said. "That wasn't a pleasant experience."   
"They never are," he told me. "It's not fun. However, you also just happened to   
get in the way of one of the especially powerful ones. Lucky you," he added   
sarcastically.   
"How'd I manage that?" I asked. "That would be just my luck."   
"It wasn't you," Duncan answered. "It was because Snell was so powerful. The   
more powerful the immortal killed, the more powerful the Quickening."   
"Sheesh," I said. "I don't know how you've gotten through four hundred years   
of those!"   
"I manage," he said with a grin. "I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"   
"That's true," I replied. "I guess you don't." I sat there for a minute, trying to   
make some remote sense out of everything that had happened to me that day.   
"Good luck," Duncan told me wryly, guessing what I was trying to do.   
"No kidding," I retorted, just as wryly. "I seriously doubt this will ever make   
sense, so why am I even bothering?" I looked around from my seat on the forest   
floor. Since it was the middle of summer, the trees were all leafed out, and there   
were little saplings growing out of the carpet of old dry leaves. Duncan was   
standing just to my left, and I noticed with some surprise that he wasn't favoring   
his right leg very much. "How can you stand like that with a smashed knee?" I   
asked him in amazement. "You hardly even look like it's bothering you."   
"Believe me," he said with a sardonic smile, "We get used to this real fast. You   
will too. It's just part of life. There've been worse things done to me." I didn't   
feel like asking what.   
"Uh oh," I said suddenly, as an unpleasant thought occurred to me. What time   
was it? Mom thought I'd gone roller-blading, (hah!) and she was going to   
wonder what had happened to me.   
"What is it?" Duncan asked, puzzled.   
I told him I remembered that Mom would be wondering where I was. "How   
long was I out of it?" I asked him. "I didn't say what time I'd be home, but it's   
probably been awhile."   
"You weren't out for that long," he assured me. "Maybe only five or ten   
minutes. It really hasn't been as long as it seems…probably no more than a   
couple of hours."   
"Whew," I breathed, relieved. "I was sure Mom would be panicking right now,   
but I've been gone that long before." I leaned forward to stand up, and the first   
thing I noticed was that the pain in my leg was gone. Was I so far gone I couldn't   
feel pain? I gently prodded just below my knee with one finger – it still refused   
to even twinge, and my leg wasn't bent at that slightly odd angle anymore. I   
looked at Duncan. "I don't think my leg is broken anymore," I said suspiciously,   
"But how's that possible? I know immortals heal fast, but no' that fast. No way!"   
I realized as I finished my sentence that I had started to involuntarily pick up his   
Scottish accent. Whoops. I'd have to watch that. That tended to happen to me – I   
didn't know why, but it wasn't the first time. I apologized to Duncan for seeming   
like I was copying his accent, being careful to speak the way I normally did, but I   
needn't have worried.   
"Och, it's all right, lassie," he told me, using a full Scottish brogue that I hadn't   
heard him use before. "It don't sound ha' bad on ye, at that. And about your leg,"   
he continued, switching back to the mixed Scottish-American English he   
normally used, "It healed when you became immortal – the really bad injuries do   
that, though not the scratches, as you can see." I looked at my arm. Yes, I could   
see that, all right.   
"Oh well," I said jokingly, "I suppose I don't mind looking like I went through   
a food processor." I remembered what I had started to do a minute ago, and stood   
up. My dizziness was gone, I noted happily. I stretched my legs, which felt fine,   
if a little stiff.   
"You'll be sore tomorrow," Duncan warned me. "Your arms especially, from   
all that sword work."   
"Believe me," I told him, "I'm used to being sore – very used to it. I remember   
the first day of an intensive dance workshop I took last summer, and the next   
morning I could barely walk. It took me a week to recover, but I actually like   
being sore, so it wasn't so bad." Millie came trotting up just then, and rubbed   
against my ankles, saying, "There you are, I was looking for you. What sort of   
trouble are you getting yourself into now? Your mom's looking for you – best   
get home." She watched me through narrowed eyes, like she was trying to size   
up what I had been doing. I rolled my eyes – home was the last thing I was   
thinking about, but I knew Millie was right.   
"All right," I told her. "I'll be right with you." I turned to Duncan. "Sounds like   
I'd better get going," I said. "See you tomorrow?"   
"Sure," he said. Then, "You really did do a good job back there in the woods.   
Thanks for coming to my rescue. I really thought I'd finally had it…"   
"Well, I couldn't just stand there and let him kill you!" I said. "I'm a natural   
fighter. I had to do something. And once I got going, I didn't really think about   
it…I just sort of did it, like I was on automatic or something."   
"The next thing you need to do is learn fencing. You'd be good at it," he said   
thoughtfully. "And of course, now that you're immortal, it's sort of required." I   
wondered why he said that I would be good at it, instead of that I was good at it.   
Did he know something about that weird stuff that had happened back in the   
clearing? But how could that have had anything to do with him? I shook my   
head. My brain was worn out – I really didn't need another puzzle right now.   
"You really think I'd be good at it?" I asked.   
"I would think," he said with a grin, "that after that escapade with Snell, you'd   
have more confidence in your sword-fighting abilities."   
"Yeah," I said, grinning myself, although I was thinking about that strange   
tingling sensation and wondering if I really could be that good – it didn't seem   
like that was my talent that I had pulled out of nowhere. But I'd bring that up   
later. "I guess I should, shouldn't I? The only thing is, there's no place around   
here to take lessons. I looked a few years ago."   
"Well…" he said slowly. "Immortals are supposed to have mentors. I guess that   
means that I would teach you."   
"You would?" I asked. "Talk about learning from an expert!"   
"Sure I would," he answered. "It would actually be good for me, too: a chance   
to practice when I'm not fighting for my life."   
"Good point. Uh, no pun intended." Then I heard a voice in my ear as Millie   
hopped onto my shoulder. "Don't you think you should go home? You look   
exhausted."   
"Yeah, I s'pose you're right," I agreed. "Let's go. Bye, Duncan. See you   
tomorrow."   
"Are you going home looking like that?" he asked me. I frowned.   
"Looking like what?" I glanced down at myself, and gulped in astonishment. I   
knew I had some cuts that must have looked pretty bad, but that was the least of   
it – my clothes were stained with blood and smeared with dirt, and my shirt was   
in shreds, courtesy of Snell. "Looks like I need a shower," I joked. "And a   
bonfire for these clothes."   
"Just thought I'd point it out before you scared your mother to death," he   
replied. "Bye. And thanks again. That would be my body back there in the   
clearing instead of Snell's if it weren't for you." He hesitated, then reached   
forward and squeezed me in a one-armed hug. Millie grunted and jumped down   
as she lost her perch on my shoulder, and waited, twitching her tail impatiently. I   
hate heavy-duty compliments, so I mumbled something resembling "you're   
welcome," waved, and followed Millie home.   
* * *   
As Millie and I walked, I noticed she looked annoyed – more annoyed than   
usual, that is.   
"What's up, Mil?" I asked her. "You seem edgy." She turned and sat down in   
front of me in the road, so I was forced to stop.   
"You are immortal," she announced.   
"No kidding," I retorted. "I already figured that out. If that's your issue, you   
need to find a new one."   
"I told you to leave us alone," she said to me. "I tried to warn you – and now   
look what you've gotten yourself into. You're going to get into more trouble than   
Duncan gets into!"   
"Are you my mother?" I asked her. "Who put you in charge of my welfare?"   
"It's for your own good," she sniffed. "Or, it was. It's too late now."   
"Too late for what?"   
"To save you."   
"From what do I need saving?" Her tail switched.   
"You sound like Richie."   
"Who's Richie?"   
"Who's Richie? You dimwit – I can't believe how little you know. You think   
you know about Highlander, but you don't even know who Richie is! You'd   
better not turn out with an attitude like his. You won't live long. But in answer to   
your question: this life. No sane person, or animal, wants to get into this life if   
they can possibly help it." I opened my mouth to reply, but Millie cut me off.   
"And don't say you had no choice – you didn't have to go play hero and rescue   
Duncan. Well, at least you'll never be able to do that again." I frowned.   
"What do you mean?"   
"There are rules you have to follow when you're one of us – one of them is, you   
can only fight battles one-on-one. That's the rule that Snell broke, repeatedly.   
And now that you're immortal, it's the rule that you'll break if you go and save   
some other immortal's ass."   
"But that is a one-on-one fight," I argued. "I didn't fight Snell at the same time   
as Duncan – we each fought him ourselves." Millie stared at me for a moment   
before replying.   
"So you think. I have to talk to Duncan to confirm this, but I have suspicions   
that he did something he shouldn't have." I sighed and rubbed my forehead – I   
was getting a headache.   
"Millie, something strange is going on, I know it. It's not just that I'm immortal   
– there's something else, isn't there?" She turned and continued walking toward   
our house, tail pointing at the sky like a flag.   
"What else would there be?" she asked. "Isn't this enough adventure for you?"   
"Yes! Yes it is! But it's not a question of my taste for adventure – I think   
there's something that you and Duncan aren't telling me."   
"Well, if there is, we're not telling you, are we?" I groaned in frustration.   
"All right, all right. Be that way. I'll go around ignorant if you want me to.   
Right now, I just want a shower."   
"At least watching your stupidity will be good for a few laughs," Millie said   
lightly. "Until you do something you regret and can't fix." I really wanted to   
know what she meant, but I'd had enough of this word game, enough of mental   
puzzles, so I didn't even show that I'd heard her. I would find out eventually –   
well, if somebody felt like telling me. 


	14. Dad's Sword

To SouthernChickie: I may yet work in a meeting with a few Highlander   
characters in this story…when I started writing this two years ago, I knew about   
as much about Highlander as Kat does. Now that I know more, my story may   
change accordingly. We'll see...   
  
With a little help from Millie in the area of being a distraction, I reached home   
and snuck upstairs to my room before Mom could see me. Stripping off my   
clothes, I wondered what to do with them. The pants could be cleaned, but the   
shirt was close to being in multiple pieces. I could mend small holes, but not   
anything that big. With a sigh of regret, I balled it up and stuffed it in the trash –   
I had liked that shirt. Oh, well. I had too many t-shirts as it was.   
Stepping into the shower, I just let the water run down my back, not moving,   
not thinking. It felt so good to just do nothing. I realized that only a week ago, I   
had had the 'summer vacation blues,' in other words, a case of boredom. I   
laughed without really finding it funny – now I could barely imagine being   
anything close to bored.   
I looked at the cuts on my arm and stomach – the one on my arm was deep, but   
it wasn't bleeding any more, and it actually didn't hurt too much. The one on my   
stomach wasn't quite as deep as the other, but it hurt more. I rinsed them out   
carefully, wincing as I did so. Finally mustering the energy to step out of the   
shower, I dried off and put on fresh clothes. As I flopped down on my bed,   
Millie came into my room and joined me.   
"Go away, Mil," I muttered. "I don't want to talk to you right now."   
"You've got to talk to somebody," she informed me.   
"Why? What do I need to talk about? And can't I talk to someone else about   
it?" Millie came and sat on my pillow, about two inches from my face.   
"You need to be educated." I snorted.   
"Excuse me? I need to be educated? Who are you to say that?"   
"I'm older than you are," she told me stuffily. "And I know a hell of a lot more   
than you do."   
"Then why don't you just tell me?"   
"Because you said you didn't want to talk to me." I closed my eyes, feeling   
ready for a nap.   
"Oh, shut up."   
"That's a nice way to talk your kitty."   
"It's about as nice as my kitty," I retorted archly. Millie settled down, purring   
lightly. Suddenly I felt her teeth in my ear. "Hey!" I yelped, sitting up. "What   
was that for?"   
"Your dad's calling you. I thought you might want to know before he came up   
here." I gave her a weird look.   
"No he's not. Don't you think I would have heard him?"   
"You were asleep," she told me. "Which is why you didn't hear him."   
"I never went to sleep."   
"You just lay there with your eyes closed for an hour?" I looked at the clock.   
"An hour?" I asked in disbelief. "It's been an hour?" Sure enough, it had been   
just that. My clock said it was quarter of five.   
"Kat?" called my dad from the bottom of the stairs.   
"What?" I yelled back.   
"Phone for you." I picked up the extension on my bookshelf. I had wanted to   
put it on my desk, but the only phone jack in my room was behind my bookshelf.   
"Got it," I called to dad, and he hung up.   
"Hello?"   
"Hi Kat, it's Alex!" Alex was one of my two best friends – she lived in the next   
town, but her house was within bike-riding distance when I felt like a good   
workout.   
"Hi Alex. What's up?"   
"I was wondering if you wanted to sleep over tonight – just come have dinner,   
watch a movie, whatever. Amy's coming." Amy was my other best friend. She   
lived three towns over, and was definitely not within sane biking range. The   
three of us had met through dance classes when we were four, five, and six,   
respectively. Amy and Alex were in the same school grade, which was a year   
ahead of me.   
"Hold on," I told Alex, "Let me ask my mom. Hey, Mom," I yelled down the   
stairs. "Can I sleep over at Alex's tonight?" I managed to get permission, dad   
said he'd drive me, and Alex and I agreed that I would be there in an hour.   
"Where are you going?" asked Millie. I had forgotten she was there, but she   
was still sitting on my pillow, watching me.   
"Alex's house. Why?"   
"You need a sword." I looked at her like she was crazy.   
"Are you kidding me?"   
"No, not at all. You're immortal now – you need a weapon."   
"What, you think Alex is going to attack me in the middle of the night? Are you   
nuts?"   
"No, I'm concerned for your safety." I smothered a grin. Millie was what?   
"You killed an immortal who had a lot of friends. Those friends will now be   
looking for vengeance, and you're their target. If you don't have a weapon, you   
may well die."   
"But even if I had a sword, I don't know how to use one."   
"How did you kill Snell, then?" I frowned.   
"I don't know. That's what I was asking you about earlier. I knew how to fight,   
but that feeling's gone – I don't know how anymore. I can't explain it. That," I   
added, "Is why I asked you to explain it. You know what's going on, I can just   
tell."   
"Whether or not I know what's going on, I can't tell you. That's Duncan's job."   
"And is he going to tell me?" Millie shrugged, if a cat can shrug.   
"That's up to him. I would recommend he do so, since it is highly dangerous if   
he doesn't, but I can't make him." She washed a paw, then continued, "But back   
to the subject at hand. You bring a sword with you now, wherever you go."   
"I don't have a sword!"   
"Your dad does." My mouth dropped open.   
"He would kill me if I touched that sword," I said softly. "You know that." Her   
whiskers drew back in a sneer.   
"You mean that figuratively. Your father wouldn't kill you – but another   
immortal would. It's up to you, but just remember what happened when you   
ignored my last warning."   
"Oh, all right," I said reluctantly. "You're probably right. But if this gets me in   
trouble, you'd better help me get out." 


	15. Amy and Alex

"Hey, Alex," I greeted my friend as I walked in the door. "How's it going?" She   
took my sleeping bag from me and dumped it in her room, then came back.   
"Great!" she answered. "I finally finished that piece I was working on for dance   
team. I thought I would never get it done." I nodded.   
"Did it come out ok?"   
"Oh, yeah. It came out better than I thought it was going to, in fact. Hey, Amy,"   
she called over her shoulder toward the porch, "Kat's here." She turned back to   
me. "Amy's in there," she said, nodding in that direction. 'The porch' isn't really   
a porch, it's an addition they put on their house a few years ago. I don't even   
know where it got that nickname, but everybody calls it that. Dumping my bag in   
front of their coat closet, I went to go greet Amy, but as I turned around, I heard   
Alex gasp. I stopped and looked back at her.   
"What's wrong?" I asked, before realizing she was staring at me. More   
specifically, she was staring at my face where Snell had tried to slice me up. I   
had left my hair hanging in my face so that Mom wouldn't see what had   
happened, but once she had left, I got sick of not being able to see anything.   
Without thinking, I had tucked my hair back behind my ear, and now my cut was   
fully visible. "Oh, this," I said nervously, putting my hand to my cheek. "I – I   
fell out of a tree. I was climbing a tree and I slipped. It's nothing." Alex looked   
concerned.   
"You're sure you're ok?" she asked. I nodded quickly.   
"I'm fine." I winced inwardly. I hated lying to my friends more than anything,   
but I had promised Duncan I wouldn't tell. Turning away from Alex, I walked   
onto the porch as Amy was coming out.   
"Hi!" she said to me excitedly. "It's been ages since I've seen you! How are   
you?"   
"Pretty good," I answered, returning the hug she gave me. "How're you?"   
"Good," she replied simply. "Hey – what happened to your face?" She held my   
hair back to get a good look at my cut. She didn't look as concerned as Alex –   
Alex had a tendency to worry about everything. Especially me, since I had a bit   
of a daredevil reputation.   
"I fell out of a tree," I said, not meeting her eyes. "Went a little too far out and   
slipped." Amy stepped back and crossed her arms, her waist-length brown hair   
swishing around her shoulders. She was about three inches taller than I was, and   
she had brown eyes that almost matched her hair. Solidly built, she had always   
been able to pick me up easily, even though I was taller and heavier than almost   
everyone else my age.   
"You lie," she said. "No tree did that – it's too clean. That looks like a knife   
cut. What really happened?" I blew out my breath. I had forgotten that Amy's   
mother was a nurse, so of course Amy would see through my lie. It almost felt   
better now that she knew I was lying, but I still couldn't tell her the truth.   
"I can't tell you," I said. "I promised – someone – that I wouldn't tell."   
"Who's this someone?" she asked.   
Alex walked up beside me and added, "Are you in trouble? Don't protect   
someone who's trying to hurt you." I looked up from the floor, startled. I hadn't   
even thought about what else they might think my cut was from. I realized I   
actually was beginning to make it sound like I was involved in something I   
shouldn't be.   
"It's nothing like that," I assured them with a slight grin. "Believe me, you're   
not even close. And I really wish I could tell you, but I did promise…"   
"Who'd you promise?" asked Amy. "At least tell me that much."   
"That would give it away," I replied. "And you probably wouldn't believe me   
anyway."   
"Oh, come on," said Alex. "Please? I don't want to have to worry about you.   
It's not like we're going to tell anybody."   
"You'll worry about me whether I tell you or not," I retorted. "And I know you   
wouldn't tell anyone, but you guys just…aren't supposed to know."   
"We aren't supposed to know," Amy repeated with a sigh. "You know what,   
Kat? Get off it. Just tell us, and it will be over. I will never repeat a word of it,   
and Alex won't either. Right?" she said pointedly, poking Alex.   
"What?" said Alex. "Did I miss something?" Amy and I looked at each other   
and laughed. Sometimes that girl was such a spaceshot.   
"You won't tell anyone, right?" Amy prompted her. Alex shook her head, her   
dark curls swinging.   
"Of course not," she said. I sighed and glared at Amy.   
"I don't think I have any choice but to tell you," I said, then added, "But   
Duncan's going to flip if he finds out."   
"Who's Duncan?" asked Alex.   
"He's the 'someone' I promised that I wouldn't tell," I replied. "He's not going   
to be happy."   
"Why does he have to know?" I shrugged.   
"I just think that somehow, he will find out eventually." 


	16. A Cat's Knives

I know the last chappie was a little slow, (I wasn't too impressed with it myself)   
but it should pick up soon. Kat's not going to get too long a break!   
* * *   
"Don't stay up too late, girls," said Karen.   
"C'mon, Mom," protested Alex, "This is a sleepover! Who are you kidding?"   
Karen laughed.   
"All right, maybe I'll change that to, just don't wake me up."   
"Can do," said Alex. "Good night."   
"Good night, girls." Karen disappeared into her room, shutting the door. Alex's   
brother had gone to bed an hour earlier, and her dad was away on a business trip,   
so we were now the only ones left up.   
"Let's go for a walk," said Alex. That was something we did all the time in the   
summer – just go outside and wander around. It took a while, but our parents   
finally became used to us going out and coming back an hour later. They still   
thought we were weird, but hey, that was their problem. We went outside and   
started down the driveway. It was warm, and the only light came from the moon   
– everyone in the neighborhood seemed to have gone to bed.   
I flexed my left hand, checking that Millie's knife was still in my sleeve. Before   
I left for Alex's, Millie had told me that because I couldn't carry Dad's sword   
around, I had to take a knife with me so that I would always have a weapon. I   
had informed her that she was nuts, or something to that effect, but she insisted   
that it was "a knife or my life." I had very reluctantly given in, and she had   
gotten a knife for me to carry. I had no idea where she dredged it up from, and   
she wouldn't tell me. I wondered where and why a cat would keep a stash of   
knives.   
It was small and light, silver with a black leather sheath. It was also very sharp,   
as I had discovered the hard way, by cutting my hand with it. I was a little   
annoyed with Millie, because she was so worried. I didn't think anything was   
going to happen – why would some crazy immortal stalk me all the way over to   
my friend's house? I wasn't too mad, though, because I supposed that it could   
happen. After all, I had already been killed once that day. When we were   
halfway down the driveway, Amy grabbed my arm.   
"All right, spill," she said. "Something is going on, I know it, and I'm a little   
worried." Amy was worried? I must have made things seem pretty bad. I sighed.   
"Where do I start?" I wondered out loud.   
"The beginning?" suggested Alex.   
I made a face at her, then asked, "Have either of you ever heard of   
Highlander?" Amy had and Alex hadn't. I gave Alex a quick explanation, then   
launched into my story. I told them about following Millie, finding Duncan, and   
everything Duncan had told me. I had just finished telling about the fight with   
Snell when a horrible, creeping sense of dread filled me, along with a steady   
buzz in my head. It was sudden and so powerful that it almost brought me to my   
knees in the middle of the street. I stayed upright, but stood still, looking around   
me uneasily. I couldn't see anything, but the buzz wouldn't leave – and the sense   
of something coming grew stronger. 


	17. No Escape

Thanks, SouthernChickie, for being concerned about me, but everything's fine.   
It's just a combination of teachers deciding to load on homework and me being  
a lazy butt! I should have time to get more up this weekend, though.   
Little friendly warning: don't read this if you're home alone in the dark!   
* * *   
I froze in mid-step, overcome with that sense of something approaching. I   
glanced around frantically, but the moon cast long, dark shadows in which   
anything could be hiding. I swallowed hard and bit my lip – my head was still   
buzzing, and I was starting to get scared. The sense of dread I had felt that   
morning had been for a reason, and I doubted this would be any different. What   
was going to happen now? My friends stopped too, and turned to look at me.   
"What is it?" asked Alex. "Is something wrong?" It occurred to me that they   
weren't feeling the same thing I was feeling – to them everything seemed   
perfectly fine. I looked at her and Amy.   
"My head…" I started. "There's something out here…I can feel it…" I couldn't   
see their expressions, because their backs were to the moon, but I could sense   
their skepticism.   
"Come on, Kat," sighed Amy, "I've had enough of this business anyway, just   
give it up, will you?" I realized that not only did they not believe anything was   
wrong, they didn't believe what I had told them, either. I didn't think I had time   
to convince them right now, though – whatever was out there was commanding   
my attention. I had the idea, however, that after whatever was going to happen   
happened, I wouldn't need to convince them of anything. That would be done for   
me.   
I backed up a few steps, going back towards the driveway we had just walked   
out of. We hadn't gone that far, as we'd been walking pretty slowly. I wondered   
if we could make it back inside the house before whatever I was sensing made its   
move. I still didn't know what was going on, why I could feel this thing and my   
friends couldn't. 'It must have something to do with my being immortal,' I   
thought, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Then suddenly I remembered a   
scene from the movie in which Duncan had sensed another immortal coming   
before he actually saw him, and I realized that was what this had to be. There   
was another immortal out here with us, somewhere.   
"Amy, Alex," I said, "Come back, we have to get back inside. There's another   
immortal"- I stopped as I felt something brush my left wrist. Looking down to   
see what it was, I was startled to find that there was blood running down my   
hand from a long cut across my wrist. I stared at it in surprise, wondering what   
had happened, as the blood continued to drip and pool on the pavement. Then I   
looked up, straight into a pair of green eyes that definitely did not belong to Amy   
or Alex. The eyes were set above an amused smile, and limp, slightly curly blond   
hair hung in the man's face. He looked about twenty, but of course I had no way   
to know how old he really was.   
Taking a step back to get a better look at him, I got an impression of a thin,   
muscular man, a handful of inches taller than I was, and not particularly friendly-  
looking, despite the smile. He carried a sword at his left hip, and an unsheathed   
knife in his right hand. I realized with a sinking feeling that not only had I left   
Dad's sword in Alex's living room, I had no idea how to use either it or the knife   
I was carrying. 


	18. Kevin

I took a slow step backwards, wondering who I was facing. Whoever he was,   
though, he had other ideas as to where I was going – he reached out and hooked   
his arm around my neck, holding me in a headlock. In his other hand he gripped   
that knife that gleamed in the moonlight. With a slight twitch, he pressed it to my   
throat so that I didn't dare try to move.   
"And who might you two ladies be?" he asked Alex and Amy, who had stopped   
and turned to stare at us. Amy's face was in darkness, but I could see Alex's   
silhouette, and I could see her mouth was hanging open. When they didn't   
answer, he jerked his arm, forcing my head down farther. His grip was tightening   
around my neck, but I could still breathe – barely. "I asked you a question," he   
stated in that same pleasant voice, but despite the tone, he demanded an answer.   
"I – I'm Alex," my friend stammered. "Um – who are you?"   
"If she answers me first, I'll tell you," he replied, nodding to Amy.   
"Chelsea," Amy stated flatly. I raised my eyebrows at the pavement, since I was   
facing the ground. "Who wants to know?"   
"Kevin," he replied amiably. "Nice to meet you, Alex and Chelsea. And you,   
too," he added, kicking the back of my heel lightly. It wasn't hard enough to hurt,   
but it made me wonder what he had planned for me. If he wanted to kill me, why   
didn't he get it over with? I wasn't exactly making it hard for him. "Now, if you   
would kindly follow me." He continued to be perfectly polite, but I didn't have a   
choice as to whether or not to obey, and my friends didn't seem to feel they had   
one, either. He started toward the side of the road, in the direction of the woods,   
and I stumbled along with him, trying not to trip while being forced to walk at   
such an angle.   
Kevin didn't remove the knife from my throat for a second, and his grip didn't   
loosen. I swallowed hard, wondering where we were going, and what was going   
to happen to us. I wished I knew what he wanted with my friends. He   
undoubtedly wanted me for my head, but the other two weren't immortals. I   
hoped he would let them go when he was done with me, but somehow I didn't   
think that was likely.   
He took us down a path that Alex and I sometimes used for a shortcut, that went   
from her house to the road that led to the general store down by the middle   
school. When we entered the woods, even the moonlight was blocked off, and I   
couldn't see where we were going. Kevin apparently knew the way, however, and   
he dragged me along as I tripped over unseen rocks and roots. I heard my friends   
picking their way along behind us.   
After walking for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few   
minutes, I was suddenly pressed up against cold metal. We were in a small   
clearing that allowed in just enough light to see that the object was a truck. Kevin   
released my neck, but held me with his knee in my lower back so I couldn't   
escape.   
"Stop right there," he told my friends, "And don't move. I'll be with you in a   
minute." The crackling sounds on the path halted, and the wood was silent for a   
moment. Kevin pulled my arms behind my back and started tying my wrists   
together.   
"Hey," I protested, "What are you"- I cut my sentence off as the knife   
reappeared and pressed into my skin. I couldn't let him kill me, because while I   
would live through it, I wouldn't be any help to myself or my friends if I wasn't   
awake. Besides, I really didn't want a knife in me for the second time that day.   
Once was more than enough.   
Kevin finished with my wrists, and I heard him digging around in his pockets for   
something. There was a small, almost inaudible pop, like a cork coming out of a   
bottle, and then he pressed something over my face. I had just enough time to   
register that it was a soft, damp cloth, before the already dark world went   
completely black. 


	19. Chloroform

Disclaimer: Nancy and Bess of the Nancy Drew books have nothing to do with   
me – not my idea. Same goes for Highlander and its characters. Alex, Kat, Kevin,   
and Amy/Chelsea are mine, however.   
* * *   
As I slowly became conscious again, the first thing I registered was that my head   
hurt. I also noticed that I was being bounced around on a hard surface, and there   
was a rumbling noise all around me. I opened my eyes, but everything was in   
darkness. Trying to remember what had happened to make me black out, I   
realized I must be in the back of that truck the immortal had taken us to. What   
was his name again? For some reason I couldn't remember it. In fact, I couldn't   
remember much at all of what had happened to get me here, other than that an   
immortal was involved.   
Whoever was driving the truck took a sharp turn, and I rolled along the floor and   
hit the side. I winced as my head hit the wall, then groaned softly – I didn't   
remember ever having such a wicked headache. I wondered where we were going,   
where we were, and how long we'd been on the road. As I lay there, my memory   
slowly started to come back. I knew I had been at Alex's house…Amy was there,   
too. We'd gone outside, and there had been somebody waiting for us…suddenly it   
all hit me at once, and I remembered in detail everything that had happened. After   
dragging us into the woods, Kevin had tied me up and somehow knocked me out.   
Kevin! That was his name.   
I wished my head didn't hurt so much. Then something started tugging at my   
brain, something about the headache, and what Kevin had done to me. I waited   
for it to come to me as I tried to sit up. It wasn't easy with the floor bouncing and   
my hands tied behind my back, but after a moment I managed. Sighing, I glanced   
around, but there was no light anywhere. I could tell I was facing what would be   
the back of the truck because of the way it moved, but that was all.   
Suddenly my brain managed to make me aware of what it was trying to tell me:   
chloroform. That's what Kevin had used on me, and that was why my head ached   
so much. Then I frowned. Where had I learned that? I knew next to nothing about   
chemicals of any sort.   
I forgot my puzzle as something much worse occurred to me – where were Alex   
and Amy? What had Kevin done with them? Had he killed them, or let them go,   
or tied them up and left them there? Or was it possible he had taken them with us?   
I was pretty sure he hadn't let them go, so I started to hope the last one was true.   
If there were three of us instead of just one, we might have more chance of   
escaping.   
I thought for a moment. If they were with us, they would probably be back here   
with me. I didn't dare move around and try to find them, as I didn't know what   
else was back here – and I also didn't know where Kevin was. I made a face –   
there was an awful lot I didn't know.   
"Kev"- I started to say, but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried   
again. "Kevin? Are you there?" There was no answer. "Kevin?" I figured he was   
in the front of the truck. I paused, then asked, "Alex? Am- uh, Chelsea?"   
"Mmm?" I heard a soft groan from a few feet away, and my heart leaped. If that   
was one of my friends, it meant that he hadn't let them go, but at least we were all   
together.   
"Alex?" I said. "Chelsea? Is that one of you?"   
There were a few seconds of silence, then, "Uhn. Whossat?" I was pretty sure it   
was Alex's voice, but she was slurring her words and I couldn't be sure.   
"It's me, Kat. You are Alex, aren't you?"   
"Yeah," was the reply.   
"You ok?" I heard her shift slightly as the truck turned.   
"I dunno. My head hurz…where are we?"   
"Kevin's truck," I answered. "Past that, no idea. Are you tied up, too?"   
"Tied up?"   
"Yeah, in fact, I am," answered another voice, slightly more awake than Alex's.   
This was unmistakably Amy – er, Chelsea.   
"Amy!" I said. "Well, we're all here, at least."   
"Very funny," she retorted. "I'd rather not be."   
"You're not the only one," I said. "I didn't exactly ask to be kidnapped."   
"So what do we do?" she asked.   
"Do?" repeated Alex.   
"I don't think there's much we can do right now," I said. "I think what we do is   
wait until Kevin comes to get us. For one thing, I don't know about you, but I   
can't see anything."   
"Me either," Amy admitted. "I guess you're right."   
"Wha' happened?" asked Alex. She was definitely the most groggy of the three   
of us.   
"We were chloroformed," I explained.   
"Was that what that was?" said Amy. "Now I understand – that's why my head   
is pounding."   
"Yup," I replied. "What a set we are, we've all got headaches."   
"And I'm tied up," noted Alex, seemingly realizing that fact for the first time.   
"Hey, can one of you untie me?"   
"We might have a hard time with that," said Amy, "Seeing as we're in the same   
situation."   
"Oh…you are?"   
"We are," I confirmed. "We were all knocked out, tied up, and stuffed in this   
blasted truck to go who-knows-where."   
We were silent for a minute, then Alex said, "You said we were chloroformed,   
right?"   
"Right. What about it?"   
"I feel like we're in a Nancy Drew novel," she replied. She sounded like she was   
grinning, and I had to laugh.   
"We're Nancy, Bess, and…she didn't have a third sidekick, did she?" Something   
clicked in my brain. That's where I had heard of chloroform before: reading   
Nancy Drew books. Who ever knew they'd be useful?   
"Nancy, Bess, and Chelsea," said Amy. "Don't call me Amy around anyone as   
long as we're here."   
"Why?" asked Alex.   
"We don't know who or what we're dealing with," Amy replied. "We don't   
know why we're here, or what this guy wants with us. We have no idea what's   
going on, and we don't know who Kevin's involved with. He doesn't need to   
know our real names. Kat, you should come up with another name for yourself,   
too. It's too late for you to do that," she said to Alex. "You already told him your   
name."   
"I do have some idea what we're dealing with," I said softly. "And I don't like it.   
Listen, you guys, there's a chance that"- I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't   
want to bring my friends more bad news.   
"What?" asked Amy. "You mean that we may not get home for a while? I know   
that."   
"No," I said with a sigh. "That's not what I meant. It's…I mean…" I still   
couldn't say it, and suddenly I wanted to cry. Don't cry, I told myself. It's not   
going to help anything.   
"What is it, Kat?" asked Alex, sounding worried. "Is something else wrong that   
we don't already know about?"   
"Yeah."   
"Kat, tell me," said Amy. "And don't feed us a story like you did earlier, I want   
the truth." I frowned, momentarily forgetting wanting to cry.   
"What story was that?" I asked, puzzled.   
"That shit about your killing some guy and becoming immortal," she retorted,   
annoyed. "Why would you lie to us? We're your friends. I didn't want you to   
make up some impressive story to explain what happened to your face, I was just   
curious." My mouth dropped open.   
"Story?" I demanded, becoming somewhat annoyed myself. "That was no story!   
You think I could – or would – make up something like that? I was telling you the   
truth! I'm an immortal!" I paused for a second, then continued. "Do you   
remember me telling you we had to get back inside, right before Kevin showed up   
and grabbed me? Why do you think I said that? It's because I knew someone was   
coming. What do you think Kevin is? He's an immortal! That's why I could sense   
him! That's why we're here, because Kevin wants me. He only took you two   
because you were with me. If I was alone, you guys wouldn't have had anything   
to do with this! Isn't this proof enough of what I am?! Why don't you believe   
me!" My voice had risen until I was almost shouting at Amy, and suddenly I felt   
her hand over my mouth.   
"Shut up," she said softly, "Or Kevin's going to hear you, and we don't need   
that. If you want to talk, talk, but keep your voice down. Ok?" I nodded, and she   
took her hand away.   
"Shut up yourself," I muttered, but she had a point. We didn't need Kevin, or   
anyone else, to get angry with us.   
"Uh, let's not fight, you guys," Alex said hesitantly. "We need to stick together   
if we want to get out of this. Like Nancy and Bess, you know?"   
"You're right," I agreed. "Sorry, Amy," I added grudgingly. "But don't you   
believe me by now?"   
"I'll believe it when you prove it to me," she replied. "I'm not sure if you can,   
but for now, we're in this whether you're immortal or not, so it's kind of   
irrelevant. Let's"-   
"It's not irrelevant," I interrupted her, "That was my point. Me being immortal is   
the reason we're here. I don't know what he wants with you, but Kevin wants my   
head. I'm sure of it." 


	20. Kevin's Hideout

I know it's been a while - thanks for being patient, everyone.   
* * *   
A while later, I couldn't tell exactly how long, I still hadn't been able to convince   
my friends to believe me. I had eventually given up, and now we were sitting in   
silence as the truck rumbled on beneath us.   
"All right," said Amy after a few minutes, "Let's just pretend for a minute that   
you are immortal – and I'm not saying you are – but if you were, and Kevin was   
too, how easily could he kill you? I mean, do you stand a chance against him?"   
"No," I said quietly. "I don't know how to swordfight, and I don't have a sword   
anyway. All I have is a knife."   
"You have a knife?" asked Alex, sounding suddenly excited.   
"Yeah, why? It's not like it's going to be any help."   
"Kat, we're tied up! You can cut us all free! Why didn't you say you had a   
knife?" I groaned, feeling like this was a bad joke, and then wanted to slap   
myself. How could I have been so stupid?   
"Kat, are you serious?" asked Amy. "We could have been free an hour ago – and   
you overlooked this fact." She and Alex started laughing, and I joined in, too, as I   
struggled behind my back to get the knife out of my sleeve. Kevin had tied the   
ropes pretty tight, but I could just barely put the fingers of my left hand around   
the end of the knife handle in my right sleeve. I pulled, but it resisted, so I pulled   
harder.   
Suddenly I lurched sideways as the truck came to a halt, and the rumbling finally   
stopped. I quit pulling on the knife as we fell silent, waiting to see what would   
happen. I heard muffled voices, and then one of the truck doors opened, letting in   
a pale gleam of moonlight. The other door opened, and I could see Kevin outlined   
between them, holding something in his left hand. I swallowed hard when he   
turned slightly and the shape of the object was revealed – he was carrying a gun.   
"Are you all awake?" he asked. "You've certainly had long enough."   
"We're awake," said Alex. "What do you want?"   
"I want you three to come out here," he replied, "And come with me. Now." I   
could just barely see my friends in the dim light, as we all struggled to our feet.   
My knees were stiff, and I couldn't use my hands, but I managed to stand upright   
and walk to the back of the truck where Kevin waited. I paused at the back,   
wondering whether my legs would support me if I jumped. "Out," Kevin ordered,   
gesturing with the gun and making up my mind for me. Whether or not my legs   
would work wasn't the issue here. I jumped, and my friends followed quickly.   
"Jay, close up and park out back – I'll be there in five, ten at the most."   
Hitting the pavement, I staggered a few steps, but remained upright. Kevin   
grabbed me by the shoulders and started walking, pushing me ahead of him. I   
could hear Alex and Amy's footsteps as they followed us. I took the opportunity   
to look around. We were in a parking lot surrounded by woods that were too dark   
to see into. A man closed the back doors of the truck we'd been in, then hopped   
into the driver's seat and drove it out of sight around the back of a building in   
front of us. The place was two stories high and looked deserted – I could just   
make out a metal door in the wall facing us, and plenty of broken windows. The   
wall itself was brick, with a layer of graffiti over it. As we came closer, I saw that   
someone had strung barbed wire in front of the windows on the lower floor,   
probably so that people inside couldn't get out. I made a face – we were obviously   
intended to be those people.   
"Why are we here?" I asked Kevin. I doubted he would tell me anything, but I   
might as well try to get what I could out of him.   
"Because you're more use to me here than where you were," he replied.   
"Well, I could've guessed that," I retorted. "Got any other news for me?"   
"Only that you might be wise to keep your mouth shut," he replied, opening the   
door and shoving me through it none too gently, so that I slammed into the side   
on the way. I made a face as my shoulder hit the doorjamb, hoping that was all he   
would do to me.   
Not likely, I thought wryly. Seeing as he's got a gun. And a sword, and a knife.   
It was dark inside, too dark to see where I was going. Then I heard a click, and a   
single bare bulb came on over our heads. The light wasn't much, but it was   
enough to look around the room. It appeared to be an old warehouse, with packing   
crates stacked in random piles all over the place. Some of the stacks were several   
feet over my head. This was possible because the ceiling, as well as I could guess,   
was about twelve feet high. There was a metal staircase at the far end of the room,   
against the wall, and Kevin pushed me toward it, then up it. Next to the staircase   
was a single solid garage door, made of sheet metal, which hadn't seen fresh paint   
in years.   
Reaching the top of the stairs, I saw that the upstairs was much like the   
downstairs, except it was smaller. The same bare bulb hung from the middle of   
the ceiling, and there were a few closed doors in two of the walls – if you were   
facing the place the way we had come in from the parking lot, they would have   
been the left and right walls. I was pushed to my right, towards what would have   
been the left wall, up to the middle one of three doors. Kevin reached around me,   
put a key in the lock, and opened it, shoving me in. I was closely followed by   
Amy and Alex, then Kevin, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.   
"I'll be back later," he told us. "Go ahead and try to run if you want – you won't   
get far."   
"Can you tell us anything?" asked Amy. "We have no idea why we're here –   
what do you want us for?" He grinned, which wasn't a pleasant sight.   
"Hasn't she told you yet?" he asked, nodding in my direction. "I shouldn't need   
to tell you the obvious. Now, have a nice night." With that he turned and left,   
closing the door behind him. I heard a key turn in the lock, and the three of us   
were left on our own as Kevin's footsteps faded. After a minute we heard the   
sound of the truck starting up and pulling away, and then everything was once   
again dark and silent. 


	21. The Alarm One

~3am, Alex's house~  
  
Karen rolled over in bed and slowly floated to consciousness as the sound of the   
truck's engine faded away into the distance. Glancing at the digital clock beside   
the bed, she wondered vaguely what it was that had woken her, then remembered   
that two of her daughter's friends were sleeping over. She let out an annoyed sigh   
– she was never at her best when woken from a sound sleep – and sat up in bed,   
swinging her feet onto the floor.   
Why do I always have to tell them to go back to bed? she asked herself. Can't   
they be asleep by midnight?   
Being careful not to disturb Wayne, who slept peacefully on in the other half of   
the bed, Karen crept to the door and opened it, walking down the hallway, past the   
kitchen, and into the living room. Peering through the glass doors into the room   
where the girls' sleeping bags were, she noticed they had left a light on, and went   
out onto the porch to shut it off. Passing the bed, however, she noticed that the   
girls weren't in it. She frowned, her annoyance increasing. Not only were they not   
asleep, they were hiding!   
Leaving the light on, Karen walked back into the living room, then into the   
kitchen, without encountering anybody. She walked back up the hall to Alex's   
room and knocked softly on the door, then opened it when there was no answer   
and flicked on the light. There was no one there, either. It occurred to her that   
maybe they had decided to watch a movie, so she opened the door to the basement   
and went to the foot of the stairs, but all was dark and still, as devoid of people as   
the rest of the house seemed to be.   
Frowning, her annoyance beginning to change to worry, Karen went back   
upstairs and checked every place she could think of. She even opened the door to   
the back yard and called for them, but her daughter and her friends were nowhere   
to be found.   
"Karen?" asked a sleepy voice as she ducked back inside. "What is it?" She   
whirled around, but it was just Wayne, looking like he hadn't woken up before   
getting out of bed.   
"Where's Alex?" she asked anxiously. "I can't find her."   
"You lost our daughter?" he joked sleepily. "How'd you do that? Did she go out   
with the garbage?"   
"Wayne, I'm not kidding!" Karen said sharply. "I don't know where they are!   
Amy and Kat were over tonight, remember?" Wayne seemed to shake off some of   
his stupor, waking up to the situation.   
"Is Nick still here?" he asked. Karen clapped her hand over her mouth, then   
quickly headed for Alex's younger brother's room. Opening the door, she saw   
Nick fast asleep with his blanket pulled over his head, and breathed a sigh of   
relief. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she realized he was the only kid in   
the house. "He's here," she reported quietly to her husband, who nodded.   
"Good," he said. "But where are the girls? Have you searched the whole house?"   
"I looked everywhere," Karen replied, her worry growing by the second.   
"They're not here."   
"We have to call the police," Wayne said decisively. "Something could have   
happened to them – in fact, something must have happened, because why else   
would they not be here at this hour?" Karen shivered at the thought, and headed   
back to her bedroom to get dressed as Wayne went to the phone in the kitchen.   
Returning to the kitchen in a sweatsuit and socks, she searched for a flashlight as   
Wayne sat down at the table, running a hand over his hair. He mumbled to   
himself as Karen tugged on her sneakers and checked to make sure the flashlight   
she had found was working, then went to the door.   
"You stay here and wait for the police," she said. "I'm going to look outside."   
Wayne looked up.   
"Be careful," he warned.   
"I'm not going far," Karen replied. "But I have to do something, I can't just sit   
here and wait." Wayne nodded and Karen left.   
* * *   
The police arrived at the front door a few minutes later, with Karen not far   
behind. By the look on her face, Wayne could tell she hadn't found anything. As   
the two of them sat on one side of the table, talking to two officers on the other   
side, Nick emerged from his room, blinking. When he saw the police, his mouth   
dropped open, and he hurried into the kitchen.   
"What's going on?" he asked.   
"This would be Nick, I presume?" asked one of the officers. Nick and Karen   
both nodded.   
"Your sister is missing," Wayne told Nick, "Along with Amy and Kat." Nick's   
eyes grew wide.   
"Missing?" he repeated. "Like, they just up and left? What'd they do that for?"   
"I only wish I knew," replied Wayne.   
"Well, where'd they go?"   
"That's what we're trying to find out," Karen said. She turned to the officers,   
who had risen from their seats at the table. "Is there anything else you need?" she   
asked. "Anything we can do to help?"   
"Do you have a recent picture of Alex?" one of them asked. "And perhaps even   
a shot of the other two girls?"   
"We also need the phone numbers of the other girls' parents," added the second   
officer. "We have to inform them of the situation."   
Karen nodded and started scribbling names and numbers on a piece of paper,   
saying to Nick as she did so, "Would you get that school photo out of my wallet?   
The one of Alex. And there's a picture on the fridge of her and Kat together."   
Nick retrieved the pictures and handed them to one of the officers, whose badge   
read Sergeant Thompson.   
"Thank you," the officer said, inspecting the photos.   
"That one's Alex," said Nick, pointing to the cheerfully smiling face framed by   
short brown curls. "And that one's Kat," he said, indicating the girl with a sly grin   
and long straight hair, lighter than Alex's. The officer nodded and inspected the   
pictures closely, then handed them to his partner, who did the same.   
"You don't have a picture of Amy?" Thompson asked. "If you don't, we can get   
one from her parents, but it would be best to have her picture as soon as possible."   
"Nick, would you get that yellow scrapbook out of Alex's room?" Karen asked.   
Nick rolled his eyes as if to say, I have to go in there? He complied when his dad   
glared at him, however, and came back a moment later with the book. Karen   
handed her piece of paper with the names and numbers to the officers, then started   
paging through the book. Wayne paced nervously while everyone waited for   
Karen to find what she was looking for. Officer Thompson studied Karen's note,   
Wayne watched the clock, and Nick stared at the other officer, whose name was   
Flahey.   
Finally Karen stood up and said, "Here's one. It's not very good, but at least   
she's there." She pulled a photo out of the book and handed it to Flahey, pointing   
out Amy in the small crowd. The policemen thanked them and left, saying that   
they would talk to them further in the morning.   
* * *   
After his parents had gone to bed, Nick lay awake, staring at the ceiling and   
thinking – an activity Alex wouldn't have believed he was capable of. Earlier that   
night, it must have been around midnight, he thought he had heard a few noises in   
the living room. It hadn't seemed strange at the time, since his sister and her   
friends were never completely silent, but now he wondered. What he heard had   
sounded a bit like that little squeaky noise their front door made, followed a   
moment later by very soft voices outside. They had been so soft he nearly hadn't   
heard them, but he had heard them, and that was the point.   
Nick continued to ponder, waiting to be sure his parents had fallen asleep.   
Judging from those noises, it almost seemed like the three girls had left willingly.   
But if that was the case, why hadn't they come back? Maybe they had been   
kidnapped. The thought interested Nick – that would certainly be exciting. He   
grinned into the darkness, simultaneously deciding that his parents had had long   
enough to fall asleep.   
Sitting up in bed, he grabbed a sweatshirt, a flashlight, and the compass he had   
taken to camp three weeks before. He wouldn't have long, he noted, as it was   
almost four a.m. and it would be light soon – but Nick would use what time he   
had. He crept silently to the kitchen, left a short note in case his parents woke up,   
and slipped out the front door into the night. 


	22. The Alarm Two

MP: yup, Mil and Mac will be back…one of them in this chappy!   
  
A/N: I don't know what happened to my format – I don't double-space   
  
things. I think it's something new on fanfic…oh, well.   
  
* * *   
  
Jay parked the truck off the road where it couldn't be seen, lit a cigarette,   
  
and prepared to wait for Kevin. He nodded sagely while Kevin gave him the   
  
inevitable warning about "be careful, stay out of sight" etc, and then took off   
  
into the woods and disappeared. Jay didn't know what his boss's hidden   
  
agenda was, but he didn't much care and never had. He was paid   
  
handsomely for driving a truck, keeping quiet, and occasionally hauling   
  
things around. He didn't have a wife or children to question what he did,   
  
only a girlfriend every now and then, when he had time off – and it never   
  
made a difference to them.   
  
Kevin slipped through the woods, heading for the place he hoped to find   
  
his long-time enemy. For once, though, he wasn't intending to take a head.   
  
This was a simple mission: issue a challenge and leave. He wasn't worried   
  
about the challenge falling flat. The man had too much 'honor' (as he called   
  
it – Kevin was more inclined to refer to it as the superhero mentality) to let a   
  
challenge of this nature slide. It would probably take no more than a few   
  
hours before he showed up to play big shot. Kevin smiled. And, of course,   
  
to have his head chopped off. This was a brilliant plan if he had ever had   
  
one: two heads in one go, one of them from his most hated enemy. The other   
  
didn't make much of a difference, but even very new immortals had a little   
  
power. And some – this was very rare, but it could happen – some ended up   
  
with more than just a little.   
  
* * *   
  
Duncan MacLeod had tossed and turned restlessly for hours before finally   
  
drifting into an uneasy sleep. He hated that feeling that something was going   
  
to happen. Plenty had already happened that day, and he didn't need   
  
anything else. He awoke instantly when he felt the old buzz echoing   
  
between his ears – again. Two in a day, he thought grumpily. Why is it   
  
always me? He rolled over and grabbed the sword that was never far away,   
  
coming to a crouch and creeping out of his one-man tent. He didn't like   
  
tents, because he found them to be very confining – however, in this part of   
  
the States, you never knew what the weather would do from one day to the   
  
next, and he'd rather sleep without getting rained on.   
  
It wasn't raining tonight, though. It was warm outside, with a light breeze   
  
that ruffled the leaves on the trees and blew his hair across his eyes. He   
  
made a face and brushed it back, hoping it wouldn't be a problem. Duncan   
  
remembered for the millionth time why he always wore a ponytail.   
  
"I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," he announced to the   
  
darkness. "Show yourself." There was no answer. His eyes flicked back and   
  
forth, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. He saw nothing –   
  
there was just the breeze making the pine needles skitter across the forest   
  
floor. "Hello?" he called warily, turning in a slow circle.   
  
"Are you looking for me?" asked a voice behind him, a voice that almost   
  
seemed to blend with the wind. He whirled around and got an impression of   
  
blond hair and green eyes as the figure stepped out from behind a tree.   
  
Duncan rolled his eyes and sighed. He should have known it would be   
  
Kevin. Kevin Merganser was like Theodore – he always popped up when   
  
there was trouble. Except there was one difference between the two:   
  
Theodore used to appear before a fight to get the lay of the land and see if he   
  
could 'help,' while Kevin showed up after a fight was over in the hopes that   
  
the survivor would be too exhausted to resist a sword in the throat. He never   
  
seemed to care who the survivor was, just that he might have a chance at   
  
their Quickening. Duncan knew that he bugged the hell out of the kid,   
  
because he always managed to keep his head.   
  
"No, but I think you're looking for me," he replied. "You woke me up, you   
  
know. Is it really necessary to go hunting at this hour?" Kevin raised an   
  
eyebrow.   
  
"What makes you so sure I'm hunting anything other than larks?"   
  
"This is the wrong area for larks. If that's what you're after, get moving   
  
and leave me alone."   
  
"We're in a good mood, aren't we?"   
  
"Are you in a better mood when gotten out of bed at"- Duncan went to   
  
consult his watch, then realized he wasn't wearing it –"whatever time it is?"   
  
"About 2:30am," Kevin offered helpfully.   
  
"State your business," demanded Duncan. "If you want a fight, let's get it   
  
over with."   
  
"I don't want a fight," the blond man replied. "I come in peace." It was   
  
Duncan's turn to raise the eyebrow.   
  
"There's a concept. I must say, it's a nice change – but must you come in   
  
peace at two-thirty in the morning?" Kevin laughed.   
  
"If I'd known you would be this cheerful about it, I would have waited.   
  
But I thought you might like to know that if you ever want to see that girl   
  
again, you'd better come out to the old construction storage building on I-95   
  
by sunset tomorrow." He turned to leave, but Duncan stopped him.   
  
"Wait. What girl?" He had a sinking suspicion he knew exactly what girl,   
  
but he wanted to be sure.   
  
"Oh, what was her name?" Kevin seemed to search the sky for inspiration.   
  
He realized suddenly that he actually didn't know her name, and mentally   
  
gave himself a good ass kicking. Idiot, he berated himself, but showed   
  
nothing of his feelings on his face.   
  
"Tell me you don't mean Kat," said Duncan in a threatening voice. Kevin   
  
smiled. Thank you, Duncan, you thickhead.   
  
"As a matter of fact, I just might. Why? Is she – special to you?" His grin   
  
widened. "How sweet. So you've forgotten Tessa finally?" Kevin started to   
  
back up slowly, having noticed that Duncan no longer seemed sleepy in the   
  
least. He was flexing his jaw and starting to look angry, and Kevin had no   
  
wish to end up lying in the big Scot's warpath. Duncan turned and swore   
  
furiously and colorfully in Gaelic.   
  
"Why, Kevin?" he demanded, in a tone that almost made Kevin doubt that   
  
Duncan's slightly joking, sarcastic mood had ever been there. "What the hell   
  
do you want?" Kevin raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and took another step   
  
back. "All right, tell me what the deal is," said Duncan finally.   
  
"I told you. You come to the construction warehouse on I-95 before sunset   
  
tomorrow – Kat lives. And maybe even her friends, too. You stand me up, I   
  
hang Kat up. It's very simple, really." Duncan told him something very rude   
  
in Gaelic, but Kevin didn't understand, as he had never seen the point in   
  
learning what he saw as a dead language. Only MacLeod and his friends still   
  
spoke it, as far as he was concerned.   
  
"Her friends?" Duncan repeated. "You didn't mention that part of things."   
  
"Oh, didn't I? They're not like us – they must not have seemed important."   
  
He laughed nastily. "There're only two of them, anyway. Alex   
  
and…whatsername…Chelsea, I think she said. Does it really make a   
  
difference? Oh, wait I forgot." Kevin affected an air of remembering   
  
something long lost in distant passages of his brain. "You probably want to   
  
rescue them all now, don't you? I'll let you in a little secret, save you some   
  
trouble. Hm?" He paused, then continued, hyperaware of Duncan's fierce   
  
glare in his direction. "Kat will be the only one left to rescue by the time you   
  
show up. I'm just going to save you a little trouble. Now, I think I'll let you   
  
get that sleep that you seemed so desperate for. Good night…maybe I'll see   
  
you tomorrow?" With that, he turned and disappeared into the rustling   
  
leaves.   
  
"Kevin!" Duncan yelled, but he didn't reply. Grinding his teeth in   
  
frustration, he paced around the tent several times before going back into it.   
  
There was no hope of sleeping now – a visit from Kevin Merganser was   
  
never good, but this one had been particularly bad. There was only thing for   
  
it – he had to go to the warehouse the next day. He wished he could go   
  
tonight, now in fact, but he figured that Kevin had dropped the bombshell   
  
about Kat's friends in the hope that he would do just that. If he went early   
  
tomorrow morning, hopefully he would be in time.   
  
Duncan sighed, turning the whole thing over in his mind. He felt bad for   
  
Kat – she had become an immortal completely by accident, without even   
  
knowing what had happened, and then in the same day, she had become   
  
immortal-bait. And, if he was to believe Kevin, so had two of her friends.   
  
Why is it always me? Duncan asked himself again. But then it occurred to   
  
him that this time, it wasn't just him. It was Kat, too. 


	23. Into the Roof

~4am, outside Alex's house~  
  
Creeping along the side of the garage, Nick flicked on the flashlight so he   
  
wouldn't trip. He crouched down by the corner where two walls met and stuffed   
  
the compass in his pocket – he wouldn't need it yet. Glancing around, he tried to   
  
decide what direction to take first. He didn't know where the girls would have   
  
gone, so he just started walking down the driveway. Scanning the ground with the   
  
flashlight as he walked, he didn't find anything by the time he reached the road,   
  
so he turned and headed up the road toward the other entrance to the driveway. He   
  
passed a few dried leaves and a lot of pine needles, a small puddle of water, a   
  
dead caterpillar – wait a minute. Where did the water come from? It hadn't rained   
  
in over a week.   
  
Nick turned back and crouched over the puddle, examining it more closely. The   
  
first thing he realized was that on closer inspection, it didn't really look like   
  
water. In fact, it couldn't even be properly called a puddle – it was just a stain on   
  
the road. He squinted and shook the flashlight, which sparked a little brighter in   
  
response. Picking up a nearby stick, he dragged it through the splotch, watching it   
  
smear reluctantly across the road. It acted like it was something half-dried –   
  
sluggish and barely liquid.   
  
Holding the end of the stick up under the light, Nick noticed that the substance   
  
was a dull red, not clear like water. He was now convinced it wasn't water at all,   
  
but something much more interesting: blood.   
  
* * *   
  
~4:03am, the I-95 warehouse~  
  
"Is there anything else we can do?" asked Alex. After I had finally rescued   
  
Millie's knife from my sleeve and cut us free, we had tried everything we could   
  
think of to get out, which included everything from picking the lock to screaming   
  
for attention. But none of us had anything to pick the lock with, and nobody had   
  
heard us screaming. We had managed to break the window, but we couldn't get   
  
past the barbed wire on the outside – even if we had, it was easily a twenty-five   
  
foot drop, down to solid concrete. My knees and shoulder still ached from our   
  
attempt to break down the door. That one had been my idea, and it wasn't such a   
  
brilliant one, as the door was of the reinforced steel variety. I had landed a few   
  
good, hard kicks on it, but every time, I had bounced off again and hit the floor,   
  
and my friends hadn't done any better.   
  
"There must be something," I replied.   
  
"Stop that," said Amy suddenly.   
  
"Stop what?" I asked, puzzled.   
  
"You're pacing!" she said. "And it's driving me crazy!"   
  
"Oh, sorry." I hadn't realized I was doing it. I leaned against the wall and looked   
  
around the room. It was pretty small, maybe seven by ten feet at most. The   
  
window was in the wall opposite the door, and against the wall to the right as you   
  
came in the door was an old desk. I guessed the place had been an office at one   
  
time, when this whole building was still being used for whatever purpose it was   
  
intended for.   
  
Walking over to the desk, I looked through the drawers. They were all empty,   
  
except for the top one, which was locked. I jiggled it around and picked at the   
  
lock, then yanked on it as hard as I could, but it stayed where it was.   
  
"Kat, what are you doing?" asked Alex.   
  
"Trying to open this drawer," I replied.   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Hey," Amy broke in. "What's that?"   
  
"What's what?" I asked.   
  
"That thing on the ceiling." She pointed to a spot over the desk, and Alex and I   
  
looked up. There was a very faint mark on the ceiling, but I couldn't tell what it   
  
was.   
  
"Hold on, I'll find out." I climbed up on the desk. Standing, I could just barely   
  
reach the ceiling, and I stood on tiptoes and poked at what I could now see was a   
  
square shape. When I poked it, it moved ever so slightly. Startled, I stepped back,   
  
and nearly lost my footing on the desk.   
  
"Whoa, careful!" warned Amy.   
  
"I'm ok," I said. "It moved."   
  
"Really?" said Alex. "What is it? Some kind of trapdoor?"   
  
"My thoughts exactly," I replied, reaching upwards again. This time I pushed   
  
harder, and one side of the square moved upwards into the ceiling. "I think it is!" I   
  
said excitedly. "I wonder where it goes."   
  
"Can you get up there and see?" asked Alex. I tried to get my fingers over the   
  
ledge, but it was just out of my reach.   
  
"I'm not tall enough," I said. "Amy, you try – you're taller than me." I hopped   
  
off the desk, and Amy climbed up in my place. She pushed up the door and   
  
managed to hook her fingers onto the lip of the ceiling.   
  
"I can reach, but I can't pull myself up like this," she said after a minute. "I need   
  
a better grip."   
  
"Maybe we can push you up," suggested Alex.   
  
"Go ahead and try," said Amy. "We'll see what happens." Alex and I each   
  
grabbed one of Amy's legs and pushed her up. We had her nearly into the   
  
opening, but then I slipped and she landed back on the desk again.   
  
"Sorry," I said. "You guys want to try again?" The second time, it was Amy who   
  
slipped, but the third time she managed to hold on and get her head through the   
  
door.   
  
"What's up there?" Alex called. We heard muffled coughing.   
  
"A lot of dust," was the choked reply. "Other than that, well – it's dark, you   
  
know. Um – can I come back down now?" Alex and I lowered her back onto the   
  
desk, and she bent down a sneezed a few times before saying, "Well, I guess it   
  
could make a good hiding place. If you don't mind sneezing your head off." I   
  
made a face at her expression, not appreciating the irony, but she didn't notice   
  
what she'd said.   
  
"Hey, be quiet," said Alex suddenly. Amy and I turned to look at her, and she   
  
held a finger over her lips and raised her eyebrows, then nodded toward the   
  
window. I frowned, not hearing anything but a small scrape as Amy let the   
  
trapdoor fall back into place. I raised my eyebrows back at Alex, silently asking   
  
what her issue was. "Kevin," she whispered. "I heard the truck." I frowned and   
  
looked out the window. Not seeing anything, I was just about to look away again   
  
when I caught a short flash of headlights. I jumped and whirled around.   
  
"Quick, let's get up there," I said, pointing at the ceiling. "It's our best chance."   
  
"Are you sure?" said Amy. "What if he finds us?"   
  
"We'll hide until he leaves to look for us," said Alex. "Then we'll escape!" A   
  
lopsided smile crept across my face. The plan sounded somewhat action-movie-  
  
esque to me, but who knew? It might work. Amy shrugged.   
  
"All right," she said reluctantly. "Let's go." Alex and I boosted her up until she   
  
managed to drag herself all the way into the hole. She disappeared for a moment,   
  
and then we could dimly see her face in the hole. "Come on, Alex," she said.   
  
"Give me your hand and I'll pull you up." Alex climbed onto the desk, and Amy   
  
and I raised her into the hole. She was in up to her hips when suddenly I sensed an   
  
immortal.   
  
"Hurry up," I hissed at them. "Kevin's coming!"  
  
Alex disappeared into the hole, and then Amy said, "Ok, Kat, your turn." I   
  
leaped onto the desk and reached into the hole. Amy and Alex grabbed my hands   
  
while I kicked against the wall to speed my way up. Meanwhile, the immortal   
  
sensation was growing stronger. My friends finally managed to get me into the   
  
ceiling just as I heard a key scrape in the lock – Kevin was going to pay us a visit.   
  
I rolled out of the way as Amy shut the door, and I heard a small click.   
  
"There's a latch," she whispered softly.   
  
"Shh," I replied. "He's down there." Sitting stock still in the pitch black, we   
  
listened to the sound of the door below opening, followed by a second of silence,   
  
then Kevin's sharp bark.   
  
"Where are you?" We stayed as still and silent as we could, not daring to breathe   
  
– in my case, that was because I didn't want to get dust up my nose and start   
  
sneezing. "Kat!" bellowed Kevin. "I know you're there! Get out here and no one   
  
gets hurt!" I gritted my teeth, suddenly coming to a horrible realization. We   
  
weren't completely hidden – I had somehow forgotten that because I could sense   
  
Kevin, he could sense me, too. We may not have been visible to him, but he knew   
  
that I, at least, was somewhere nearby. The silence stretched for what seemed to   
  
be an eternity, and then there was a sudden slam from below as Kevin left the   
  
room and closed the door.   
  
"Kat?" we heard again, much more muffled now. He was searching the other   
  
room for us. We sat in the dark and listened to our kidnapper slam things around   
  
and yell for a while, and then suddenly the buzz was gone from my head.   
  
"He's leaving," I whispered.   
  
"Why would he leave?" one of my friends whispered back.   
  
"I don't know," I replied, "but he is." I shifted to a more comfortable position,   
  
stirring up dust in the process and causing myself to sneeze. "Oh, great," said   
  
Alex, sounding a little stuffy. "I'm allergic to dust."   
  
"Uh oh," said Amy. "Just don't sneeze when Kevin's around, ok?"   
  
"I'll try," said Alex with a short laugh.   
  
"So now what?" I asked after a minute.   
  
"Now we – achoo – explore?" asked Alex.   
  
"Without light?" retorted Amy. "That will be fun. Let's go trip over whatever's   
  
up here."   
  
"We can at least try," I said. "I mean, we have to do something. Otherwise, what   
  
was the point of coming up here?" I stood up and took a cautious step forwards,   
  
then another one. After a few more steps, I hit my head on something. I stepped   
  
back and put out my hand, coming into contact with a piece of cool metal that was   
  
fixed at an angle – I guessed it was underside of the roof. "I found the edge," I   
  
said.   
  
"You mean the roof?" asked Amy. "Follow it all the way down to the floor –   
  
maybe there's a vent or something. My attic opens right up to the outside where   
  
the ceiling meets the floor." I bit my lip, then stuck out my foot and found a lower   
  
section of roof, and started sliding my toe slowly down it. I was wary of exploring   
  
in complete darkness, not knowing what was around me. Eventually, my foot hit   
  
the floor and was wedged in a corner. I stuck my hand down by my foot and   
  
wiggled my fingers around in the crack, then suddenly noticed that where my   
  
fingers were was slightly darker than where my fingers weren't. There was a bit   
  
of light coming through a tiny crack by the floor, as well as a small breeze. It was   
  
no longer still outside – the wind had picked up just a little, and I could feel it on   
  
my fingers.   
  
"Hey," I said, "check this out."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Outdoors." 


	24. Riding in Cars with Cats

~4:16am, the woods~   
  
Millie had sensed trouble immediately, the way only a cat could. Thank goodness   
  
she had already been outdoors at the time – getting out of the house in the wee   
  
hours could really be a pain, sometimes even impossible. Humans were so   
  
stubborn about waking up.   
  
Abandoning the rodent hole she had patiently staked out, she went to the edge of   
  
a nearby field and cocked her ears to the wind, listening intently. Hearing nothing,   
  
she sniffed the light breeze and found what she was looking for. No human   
  
immortal had ever been smart enough to figure out that the mental connection   
  
wasn't the only way she could find them – she had a natural cat instinct to sniff   
  
things out, and after meeting somebody once, she never forgot their scent,   
  
whether they were immortal or not.   
  
This time it was Duncan she sensed on the wind, and a faint trace of a stranger,   
  
like the second person had already been and gone. Millie followed her nose all the   
  
way to Duncan's tent deep in the woods, where she stopped and shoved her nose   
  
under a flap. She could tell he was awake, probably as a result of whatever trouble   
  
she had sensed.   
  
"Mrow?" she asked, letting him know she was there. He immediately sat up,   
  
looking for her in the dark. She, of course, could see him perfectly – she was a   
  
cat, after all. If she couldn't see in the dark better than any other living thing, she   
  
would be a disgrace. And Millie would die before she would become a disgrace.   
  
"Millie?" Duncan asked. "Is that you?"   
  
"Who else?" she retorted, acidly as ever.   
  
"Just checking." She slid into the tent and curled up on his jacket. "Come in,   
  
why don't you," Duncan said.   
  
"Thank you," she replied sarcastically. "I believe I will."   
  
They sat in silence for a moment, until Duncan asked, "So why are you here?   
  
Why do I suspect you didn't just feel like visiting?"   
  
"I don't know. Why do you?"   
  
"Because you're like everyone else – always around when there's trouble."   
  
"Ah, but at least I don't cause it," Millie purred.   
  
"Or so you would like to think."   
  
"Anyway, what's your issue this time? I just came to lend a paw if you were in   
  
serious trouble. You know, since Kat isn't around this time," she goaded him.   
  
Duncan just sighed.   
  
"In fact, that's exactly the trouble – it's Kat."   
  
"Oh, you finally figured that out, did you? How many times did I tell you – both   
  
of you? It figures you would just now realize that, when it's too late"-  
  
"Millie," Duncan broke in firmly, "I mean this. Kat is in trouble – Kevin has   
  
her."   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Kevin Merganser – he's young, but he's slick and ruthless. And he's worrying   
  
me."   
  
"Is that who I smelled," Millie said thoughtfully. "What's he going to do with   
  
her? Something dreadful, I suppose. Unless, of course, you go save the day like   
  
you usually do."   
  
"Kill her, I suspect," Duncan replied. "What else? Her head is worth something   
  
now. She's not even my biggest concern, though. Kevin also claimed to have two   
  
of her friends, who I suspect are not the death-resistant kind. He's just as nasty   
  
with mortals as he is with the rest of us."   
  
"It's always something difficult," Millie sighed, "When you're involved. So why   
  
aren't you hot on the trail yet?"   
  
"Because I was threatened not to arrive too early. If I do, Kat's friends, or even   
  
Kat herself, are going to get it."   
  
"And you believe this Kevin?"   
  
"I don't have much choice. Besides, it's just a few hours until daylight, and then   
  
I can get moving. At least I know where to go, provided Kevin wasn't giving me a   
  
false trail."   
  
"Where?"   
  
"The construction storage unit off I-95."   
  
"Ugh," said Millie with a delicate shudder. "All metal and no mice." Duncan   
  
couldn't help but laugh.   
  
"Is that all you ever think about? Your next kill, or probability of one?"   
  
"Not at all," she replied. "But you don't need to know what else I think about. It   
  
wouldn't suit you."   
  
* * *   
  
Crouched in her favorite place under the porch, her thinking space, Millie   
  
considered what Duncan had said about Kevin. She didn't have a lot of   
  
confidence that he wouldn't botch a rescue mission and get everyone involved   
  
killed. She wasn't pleased with the idea, but she didn't feel she had a choice not to   
  
stick a paw into the action. After all, she wouldn't have to leap into the fray unless   
  
things went wrong. Unfortunately, they were very likely to do just that with old   
  
Mac around.   
  
A memory surfaced in Millie's head – Kat had gone to that girl Alex's house, the   
  
girl who was allergic to cats. If Kat was at Alex's, the third friend could only be   
  
Amy – they were a threesome that always seemed to be together…yes, the   
  
unfortunate crowd was undoubtedly Alex, Kat, and Amy. Well, at least she knew   
  
what they all smelled like, and she just happened to know where they would be.   
  
No one in the family knew her hobby was sneaking into the car on short trips to   
  
see the sights. It wasn't that she cared much about being touristy, but it was a   
  
perfect way to get her bearings in new surroundings, which is where she was   
  
every few years. She had become an expert at hiding in any kind of car, and   
  
getting in and out of them without being seen. Alex's house had been her   
  
destination more than once, and it would be easy to find on her own. And luckily,   
  
it wasn't too far away.   
  
It would really be better to go straight to the warehouse, but she couldn't get   
  
there in time, so Alex's house was the best place to start. She could always   
  
snag a secret ride from somewhere in the area if she got the chance. 


	25. Set to Go

~4:30am, Near Alex's house~   
  
Nick had found more blood, leading him in a faint trail toward that shortcut in   
  
the woods that he and his friends liked to bike on. Once in the woods, the   
  
moonlight was cut off and the blood was no longer visible, but he just followed   
  
the trail of trampled ground and broken branches that mountain bikes had a   
  
habit of leaving. His footsteps crunched softly in last year's dry leaves, and he   
  
looked around uneasily. What if whoever – or whatever – had gotten his sister   
  
was still out here, waiting for him? Eventually he reached the clearing that   
  
opened onto the road, and he stopped and looked around. The ground was   
  
churned up with tire tracks, clear even in the dim glow of his flashlight. In the   
  
time it had taken him to walk from his house to the clearing, the moon had gone   
  
down, leaving him with only the flashlight to see by. He was suddenly very glad   
  
he had brought it.   
  
Nick looked carefully at the tread marks in the dirt. They came into the   
  
clearing from the direction of the road, then seemed to stop, turn around, and go   
  
back out again. He knew, somehow, that he had found the trail of his missing   
  
sister. He didn't know how he knew. He just did. Walking out to the road, he   
  
saw the track disappear to the left as the dirt gradually fell off the tires, until the   
  
trail could no longer be seen. Fixing the direction in his mind case the tracks got   
  
washed away, he turned around and headed quickly home again.   
  
Striding up the trail, the flashlight swinging from his hand and sending wild   
  
shadows flickering around the woods, Nick carefully developed a plan. He   
  
didn't have much faith in the police, despite the fact that he found them very   
  
interesting – he had already discovered more than they seemed to have found.   
  
He knew plenty of kids – well, at least a few – at school who had committed   
  
crimes and gotten away with it. Sure, they weren't big crimes, like   
  
kidnapping…but it still didn't boost his confidence in the local law enforcement   
  
system.   
  
Slipping in through the front door as quietly as he could, Nick went first to the   
  
kitchen, found his note, and ripped it to shreds so nobody could read it. Then he   
  
snuck past his parents' bedroom and back into his own, put the flashlight and   
  
compass on the table, and threw the sweatshirt on the floor. By the time he was   
  
back in bed, his plan was complete.   
  
* * *   
  
~6:00am, Nick's room~   
  
Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Nick rolled over in bed, groaning, and slammed his   
  
fist down on the alarm clock. Beep-beep! it insisted cheerfully.   
  
"Shut up."   
  
Beep-beep!   
  
"I said *shut it!*"   
  
Beep-beep!   
  
Nick sighed. How could it be morning already? It felt like he'd barely slept.   
  
Then he remembered that that was probably because he really hadn't slept   
  
much. He tried to think, but the clock kept interrupting him.   
  
Beep-beep! What had happened the night before? The police…the woods…oh,   
  
yeah. That's right – his sister was missing. What – beep-beep! What was he   
  
going to do? He'd had a plan…if only he could remember the details…beep-  
  
beep! Shut up. Beep-beep! He'd had a plan. He knew it. Beep-beep!   
  
Once again, he slammed his fist down on the clock, and once again, it ignored   
  
him. Beep-beep! He was going to…oh, that's right! Beep-beep! He grinned.   
  
This was going to be a good day. He was going to – beep-beep! – go exploring.   
  
Nick sat up, shutting off the clock as he did so, then hopped out of   
  
bed and started getting dressed. He threw on jean shorts and a t-shirt, then   
  
grabbed the bag he used for school and dumped the contents out on his bed.   
  
Shoving last year's books and binders onto the floor between the wall and the   
  
bed so his mom wouldn't see them and wonder what he was doing, he started   
  
stuffing things into the now-empty bag. In went a notebook, pen, compass, and   
  
flashlight, followed after a second's pause by his bike lock with key and a black   
  
baseball cap.   
  
He slung the bag over his shoulder and opened the door to his room, walking   
  
down the hall and into the kitchen.   
  
"Nick?" said Karen is surprise. She was sitting at the kitchen table in her   
  
bathrobe and pajamas, drinking coffee.   
  
"What?" he asked.   
  
"Why are you up so early?" There were circles under Karen's eyes, and she   
  
looked worried.   
  
"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled. Karen nodded understandingly. That was not,   
  
of course, the truth – he could have slept several more hours, and on any normal   
  
July morning, he certainly would have. This July morning, however, was far   
  
from normal, and it held the promise of interesting adventures. He headed into   
  
the kitchen, dropping his bag next to the fridge as he did so, and dug up a bagel.   
  
He stuck it in the toaster and started searching for the cream cheese, then a   
  
knife. While he waited for the bagel to toast, he ducked over to the snack drawer   
  
and stuffed two granola bars, a box of crackers, and a juice box into the   
  
backpack along with the other things – they might be the only lunch he would   
  
get that day. By the time he finished eating breakfast, he was nearly ready for   
  
his adventure. He had only one thing left to do: get out of the house. 


	26. Setup

MP: thanks for your review of my other story. I have a case of writer's block on that one,   
  
but I haven't totally forgotten it...there is hope yet...as for this story! I got my   
  
wisdom teeth out a couple weeks ago, and then chaos landed. But the next chappy is  
  
finally in!   
  
~6:27am~   
  
Hidden in a bush across the street from Alex's house, Millie watched a boy ride   
  
away on his bike, a pack on his back and an obvious mission in his eyes. She   
  
knew instinctively that it was Nick, even though she had never met him before.   
  
She was also pretty sure she knew where he was going. Her tail twitched as she   
  
thought. What were the odds of good luck? Well, if he had a lead, why not   
  
check it out? She waited for the red bike to disappear down a small forest trail   
  
with its rider, and then she came out of hiding and charged after it, alert for any   
  
signs of danger.   
  
  
  
~6:33am~   
  
Millie kept in good shape, and had no trouble following the biker to the clearing   
  
in the woods in time to see him follow a set of tire tracks out onto the road. She   
  
headed for the drainage ditch along the side of the street where she wouldn't be   
  
seen, and kept running.   
  
~6:37am~   
  
Pounding along in the underbrush, the little gray cat pondered the direction they   
  
were going in. This was definitely the way that Duncan had talked about,   
  
toward that storage warehouse. Nick had the right idea, and she wondered if he   
  
knew where the girls were, or if he had just found a lead that happened to go   
  
this way. The latter was probably the truth, she decided. How could he possibly   
  
know where they had gone? The only reason she knew was because Duncan had   
  
told her, and she was a cat!   
  
~6:39am~   
  
Just past sunrise, Duncan noted, stopping to stare at the sky. His tent was   
  
packed away already along with everything else, his small campfire had been   
  
put out and spread around so as to be unrecognizable, and now he was waiting   
  
until it was late enough to get going. About 6:45, he had figured. The waiting   
  
was really beginning to get on his nerves. He pulled out his sword and started   
  
doing a kata, using the surrounding trees as his enemies.   
  
He winced a moment later and stopped as he nearly cut himself. Stupid move,   
  
his inner voice berated silently. This really wasn't a good time to be swinging a   
  
sword around with no enemy in sight – he was dangerously distracted. Waiting   
  
had never been his strong suit, and he couldn't help thinking what Kevin might   
  
be doing to Kat and her friends at this very moment.   
  
~6:40am~   
  
It occurred to Nick, not for the first time, that he didn't know where he was   
  
going. The tire tracks had faded out long ago, so he really had nothing to go on   
  
other than his own sense of location, and he had no idea how good that was. He   
  
figured he would keep going until he either found something interesting or got   
  
tired. Oh well. It was a nice day for a ride, anyway.   
  
~6:44am~   
  
Close enough. Duncan fastened his sword to his hip, pulled on his long black   
  
coat, grabbed his pack, and took off. He wasn't going to walk – that would be   
  
crazy, and it would take much too long to reach I-95. Despite the fact that he   
  
had no vehicle with him, and there were no buses in this area, he had his own   
  
ways of getting places. Ways that he just hoped no mortal would see.   
  
~6:50am~   
  
We could feel the sun almost as soon as it hit the roof, and I knew immediately   
  
that we wouldn't be able to stay here in the crawl space much longer. It was   
  
July and the roof was metal, and if we hung out here we would end up fried like   
  
bacon. Or would that be broiled? I didn't know and didn't want to find out.   
  
"Listen," I said to my friends, "We're going to have to get out of here soon.   
  
We can stay a little longer, but I don't know when Kevin will be back, and we   
  
don't want to push our luck. I don't know how long it'll take to get dangerously   
  
hot up here, but it can't be that long."   
  
"I'd say we've got an hour," replied Amy. "At the most. To be safe, make it   
  
less."   
  
"But where are we going to go?" asked Alex. "I don't even know where we   
  
are."   
  
"Neither do I," I answered, "But we'll just have to find something." A small   
  
shaft of daylight now filtered up through the crack I had discovered, and I could   
  
just make out my friends' faces, Amy's worried and Alex's frowning.   
  
"I've got an idea, actually," said Alex after a few minutes.   
  
"What?"   
  
"We'll stay up here as long as we can, and then go down and hide behind all   
  
those crates until we get a chance to run for it. I don't know how you can know   
  
that Kevin's not in the building, but I trust that you wouldn't bring us all to him   
  
on purpose." I shrugged, ignoring her last comment.   
  
"Sounds fine," I said. "I mean, we don't have much other choice."   
  
"Ok," said Amy. "When do we leave?"   
  
"When it gets too hot," answered Alex simply. 


	27. Escape from the Heat

~7:01am, the road outside the warehouse~  
  
"You can go home now," Kevin told Jay. "Get a good sleep – we'll be taking a   
  
long trip pretty soon if my plan works out." Jay nodded to his boss, hopped in   
  
the truck, and rumbled off. Kevin stood in the road and watched until he was out   
  
of sight, then turned and crossed his arms, staring at the building behind him.   
  
An annoyed frown stole onto his face as he though about his current situation.   
  
He had gotten what he wanted, namely Kat, with an added bonus of two of her   
  
friends, but somehow they had managed to hide. He knew they were still in the   
  
building – he could sense Kat – but he hadn't been able to find them anywhere.   
  
A thought occurred to him…what if Kat had discovered…but no, that wasn't   
  
possible. Even if Duncan had told her everything, which, knowing him, he   
  
hadn't, she couldn't have mastered the power so fast. Nobody could, though god   
  
knows plenty of them had tried. But none of them lived to tell about it.   
  
So they were around here somewhere…but where? He had searched every   
  
crack and space he could find, but the building seemed empty, except for that   
  
mental humming. Well, he would just have to look again.   
  
~7:15am, the roof~   
  
"I think we should go now," said Amy, and Alex and I agreed. I couldn't see my   
  
friends very well, but the sweat was starting to drip off my face in the darkness.   
  
It was a strange sensation, to be so hot even though it was nearly dark in the   
  
crawl space. The three of us crawled around until we found the trapdoor again,   
  
and Alex lifted it up, letting in a sudden beam of light from the room below. I   
  
winced, letting my eyes adjust as Alex jumped down, followed by Amy. I came   
  
last, letting the panel fall shut behind me.   
  
"Ok, let's go," said Alex.   
  
"Where?"   
  
"Um…we'll find out, I guess." Amy and I looked at each other, shrugged, and   
  
followed Alex out the door. I guessed that Kevin had left it unlocked after   
  
finding us missing and storming out, and I grinned at our piece of luck.   
  
We walked across the upstairs cautiously, stopping a few times to listen for   
  
any signs of other people. Hearing nothing, we continued to the stairs and   
  
started down. I had barely set my foot on the top step when my head started to   
  
spin and I heard the swishing noise I had been hoping so desperately not to hear   
  
– Kevin had come back.   
  
"Shit," I hissed, freezing in place with one foot in the air. "You guys, stop!"   
  
Amy and Alex turned around and looked at me.   
  
"What's wrong?" asked Amy.   
  
"Kevin," I replied. "Get back up here." Following my own advice, I turned and   
  
raced back across the room, looking frantically for a hiding place. I dove into   
  
the labyrinth of crates that made up the back half of the room, running down   
  
five-foot-long passageways that twisted and turned in all directions. Heading for   
  
the far corner of the room, I could hear my friends' footsteps echoing behind   
  
me. As I turned another sharp corner, I nearly ran into a solid wall. I stopped,   
  
realizing I had reached a dead end, and crouched down on the floor. Alex and   
  
Amy raced into the tiny space a second later and dropped onto the floor beside   
  
me, just as we all heard a noise from the front of the room. We looked at   
  
each other as the same thing hit each of us: Kevin was coming up the stairs, and if   
  
he came back here, we were trapped.   
  
An additional thought came to me – if there was a fight, my friends might die.   
  
And it would be my fault. I swallowed hard and stared at the side of the crate I   
  
was leaning against without really seeing it. I had a horrible feeling that this was   
  
it. I didn't know exactly what "it" was, but I knew it was coming fast, and it was   
  
life or death. For all of us. 


	28. Purple Glow

A/N: All right, you guys are probably going to kill me for this. I'm really sorry   
  
to do this to you, but I don't have a choice – I'm going away for two weeks and   
  
I won't have access to a computer. But I'll write while I'm away and post as   
  
soon as I get back! I promise! (Evil, evil cliffhangers…I know.)   
  
Also: you really have to "suspend disbelief," as they say (haha) for this chapter.   
  
The 'weird side' I warned you about a long time ago really shows up here. Have   
  
fun!   
  
~7:21am, the warehouse~   
  
The three of us crouched in anxious silence in our maze of crates, listening to   
  
the footsteps ascend the metal staircase with a growing sense of dread. Amy   
  
was chewing on her lower lip and Alex's eyes were wide. I realized after a   
  
minute that I was holding my breath, and I slowly released it, feeling that Kevin   
  
must have heard me. The steps reached the top of the stairs and stopped.   
  
"Kat?" he called. It sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth, like he   
  
was trying hard to keep his temper in check. I sat perfectly still, just waiting.   
  
None of us dared to move an inch. "Kat!" Kevin yelled. "Get out here."   
  
Yeah right, I thought. You expect us to respond to that? God, you're so stupid.   
  
First you manage to lose us and then you just stand there and yell.   
  
I cut off my sarcastic mental tirade when I became aware of the sudden and   
  
complete silence. There were no footsteps, no angry voice. The silence stretched   
  
into eternity, without release, and my skin started to crawl.   
  
Not right, I thought, this isn't right. What's he doing?   
  
I glanced sideways at Amy – I couldn't quite see Alex without moving. Amy   
  
raised an eyebrow, seeming to be thinking the same thing I was, but otherwise   
  
she didn't move. I hugged my knees tighter and waited, almost wishing   
  
something would happen to relieve the awful tension. I had always thought that   
  
the waiting was worse than the actual event, no matter what the even was, and   
  
was proving true. If I had to fight Kevin, at least I could concentrate on   
  
expending my nervous energy on something, but just sitting there was driving   
  
me mad.   
  
Suddenly I felt something touch my right hand, and I started and yanked my   
  
hand up. My friends jumped too and looked at me in alarm, but I was staring at   
  
where my hand had been in confusion. I could have sworn I'd felt something   
  
touch me, but there was very clearly nothing there. I shook myself and settled   
  
back against the wall again. Amy frowned worriedly but said nothing.   
  
I must be imagining things, I told myself. The tension is making me think   
  
strange things.   
  
Then suddenly a purple light flared to my right, where my hand had been. The   
  
light grew in brightness, and I scooted away from it across the cement floor and   
  
pressed myself against the opposite crate, watching it in shock. It was like   
  
nothing I had ever seen before, or even heard of. It was almost like some strange   
  
liquid creature as it slithered across the floor toward me. I couldn't see the   
  
center of it even though I got the impression it was transparent, because the light   
  
it gave off was so bright as to be nearly blinding if I looked straight at it. It   
  
seemed to be mostly purple, but it contained little flecks of white light, like stars   
  
in the night sky. A purple glow surrounded it, and it seemed to move of its own   
  
will.   
  
I leaned forward and squinted at it, then shoved myself backward again as it   
  
suddenly reared up off the floor like a snake about to strike. I squeaked and   
  
pushed myself back as far as I could, but I had already moved as far as I could   
  
go. The thing wove back and forth in the air like it was looking for something,   
  
and I had the feeling that something was me.   
  
"Move," I hissed at my friends. "We have to get out of here." They looked at   
  
me like I was crazy.   
  
"Why?" hissed Alex. "Kevin will find us!" My mouth dropped open. What   
  
was her problem?   
  
"Because if we don't move it won't matter!" I replied, nearly forgetting to   
  
keep my voice down. "Can't you tell it's looking for us?" She just stared at me.   
  
"What?"   
  
"It's looking for me!" I repeated. "Get out before it catches us!" I was keeping   
  
one eye on the strange purple beast as I talked, and I had to lunge sideways as it   
  
struck at me.   
  
"What's looking for you?" asked Amy slowly, like she was talking to a little   
  
kid who didn't speak very well yet, or a person with a mental disability. It was   
  
my turn to stop and stare.   
  
"That!" I said, my voice finally rising above a hiss into my normal speaking   
  
voice, pointing at the purple thing. Amy and Alex looked where I was pointing,   
  
then back at me.   
  
"What?" they both said together, and it suddenly hit me that they couldn't see   
  
it. I had no idea why I was seeing something they weren't, but I wanted to get   
  
away from it in any case.   
  
"There's a thing there," I tried to explain. "You guys can't see it for some   
  
reason, but I can, and it's searching for me. We have to get away from it." Alex   
  
stood up and faced me.   
  
"Kat, no," she said firmly. "I'm not going out where Kevin can find us because   
  
you're going crazy. You already got us into a bad enough mess, I know better   
  
now than to make it worse. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you,   
  
because you'll only get us in trouble." She took a hold of my arm and pulled me   
  
back to the floor, and I was so shocked that I let her pull me. I had never seen   
  
Alex do anything like that before. What had gotten into her?   
  
I just stared at her until the purple thing lunged nearly into my face, and I   
  
snapped back to the mission at hand, wrenching my hand from Alex's grasp and   
  
standing up.   
  
"The one time you stand up for yourself, you pick the wrong time," I said. "I   
  
don't know what it is, but I'm not imagining that thing, and it's about to catch   
  
me. Now move before it – agh!" While I was talking, the thing in question had   
  
finally reached me, stretching up to wrap itself around my wrist. I yanked my   
  
hand away, then just stood there with my eyes watering – whatever it was stung   
  
my skin like liquid fire. Looking at my wrist, I realized it had left something on   
  
me – not a substance, it was more like a purple glowing bracelet. I wasn't any   
  
closer to knowing what it was, but I did know one thing: the pain was getting   
  
steadily worse, and the skin on my wrist was turning red, like I had a rug burn.   
  
"Look at this," I said to my friends, holding my arm out for them to see.   
  
Apparently they could at least see the marks the thing had left on me, because   
  
Amy frowned and asked, "What'd you do to yourself?"   
  
"It's not what I did to myself," I replied, "It's more like what something else   
  
did to me. We have to move, now, even if Kevin does catch us." Amy shrugged   
  
uneasily and slowly rose to her feet, but Alex stayed on the floor.   
  
"Let me see that," she said suspiciously. I sidestepped the purple puddle again,   
  
holding my hand out to her impatiently. I winced when she touched the ring of   
  
raw skin around my wrist, but I was startled when she flinched away, shaking   
  
her hand.   
  
"Ouch!" she gasped. "What is that?"   
  
"I told you, I don't know! But now do you trust me? In other words, will you   
  
get up and go?" She came to her feet, and the three of us hurried away thorough   
  
the crates, keeping our eyes out for Kevin as we went. We headed out of the   
  
dead end, down one tunnel after another, around corner after corner, constantly   
  
looking around for our captor. We didn't see him, but as we came even with the   
  
wall that was part of the passage we were in, the purple glow suddenly shot out   
  
from under a crate just a few feet in front of me. I nearly tripped over my own   
  
feet, I was in such a hurry to stop, but I managed to stay on my feet, and I   
  
started backing up as it headed toward me.   
  
It seemed to have gained energy, as it was moving faster now, and it seemed to   
  
have a better idea of where I was. I turned around and started running, and it   
  
chased me, sliding along the floor with unbelievable speed. I realized I was   
  
heading for the front of the room, where Kevin was, but it was too late to   
  
change direction – my only other choice was to try to face down the blob, which   
  
I wasn't about to do. The sting in my wrist hadn't subsided in the least, and I'd   
  
rather that thing didn't get a hold of any other parts of me.   
  
Finding a turn in the maze, I raced down it, then turned again immediately –   
  
and nearly ran smack into a figure standing in my path. As I looked up, I caught   
  
that impression again of green eyes set in a grinning face framed by curly   
  
blonde hair… 


	29. Sneak Attack

SouthernChickie: I'm sorry you hate me. At least that tells me you like my   
  
story. And no, I can't give you any hints at this point, sorry – it'll ruin my   
  
sequel!   
  
MorganaPendragon: I'm glad you don't hate me like some people. (hehe)   
  
Koneko: Kat is 13. Glad you like it! I always like to hear from new peeps.   
  
Maeve Carys: Hey, I hear from so many new peeps…maybe I should leave   
  
more often…no, I was JUST KIDDING!! PLEASE don't attack me. I really   
  
didn't mean it, everyone! REALLY!! Anyway, glad you like it too. And I'm   
  
back. Well, duh.   
  
A/N: Kevin's first line is not my own invention – it's actually a line from a song   
  
called "Unholy," by KISS. The song lyrics that float through Kat's head are also   
  
by KISS, from a song called "Dreamin'"   
  
~ ~ ~   
  
Two choices: face down Kevin, or face down the blob. No time to think – Kevin   
  
is human, the blob hurts. I kept running full tilt at the figure barring my path,   
  
holding my arms out in front of me and curling my hands into fists.   
  
"Better cross your heart before you die," he said, and then I slammed into him   
  
as hard as I could, using the momentum from my run and all the power I could   
  
muster to knock him flat on his back on the floor. He hit the concrete with a   
  
smack and a grunt, and I landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.   
  
Before I could put my advantage to use, however, he rolled over, pinning me   
  
underneath him so I could barely breathe. I glared at him. "Nice to see you,   
  
too," he said with a smile.   
  
"Can't say I feel the same way," I croaked.   
  
"Sorry to hear that. But it's not going to make a difference." He grabbed my   
  
arms and wrenched me onto my feet as he stood, crossing my wrists in his   
  
hands so I couldn't pull free.   
  
"Wait!" I suddenly said as something occurred to me. "There was a purple   
  
light – back there – it's chasing me"- I cut off my sentence as his grin grew   
  
wider.   
  
"Why, thank you for reminding me." He lifted one hand in the air and snapped   
  
his fingers as I watched him in puzzlement. Kevin not only seemed to know   
  
exactly what I was talking about, I got the feeling he was controlling it. But   
  
how? He held his hand in the air a moment longer, and I saw my chance: he was   
  
only holding me with one hand.   
  
I twisted and yanked away with all my might, and my wrists slid out of his   
  
grip. I spun away as he reached for me again, pushing off the nearest crate and   
  
running as fast as I could the other way. I flew down the nearest passage,   
  
turning left and right and trying desperately to lose the man whose footsteps I   
  
could hear following me relentlessly. Hoping Amy and Alex would stay out of   
  
the way, I was startled to realize I hadn't seen the purple thing again, and I   
  
wondered where it was. For some reason I wasn't worried that it had found my   
  
friends, because it hadn't seemed interested in them – it was only looking for   
  
me. I didn't meet anyone else, but suddenly I found myself at the front of the   
  
room, out in the open space by the stairwell, with nowhere to run. As I looked   
  
frantically around me for something to help me, anything, Kevin shot out of the   
  
maze behind me, effectively cornering me. There was only one thing to do.   
  
As I whirled around and launched myself into attack mode, I felt the anger   
  
start to rise again, the same feeling I had had when fighting Snell – it seemed so   
  
long ago now, but it would have been…what…only the day before, actually. As   
  
Kevin drew his sword, I pulled Millie's knife out of my sleeve, holding it point-  
  
down in my right fist. We circled each other slowly, each waiting for the other   
  
to make the first move. I stared at those green eyes, feeling the air almost hum   
  
with the tension as we moved slowly around and around.   
  
Kevin's move was so fast I almost missed it, but I just managed to leap   
  
backwards as his sword sliced through the air where I had been standing a half   
  
second before. The first move was made, the tension broken – I ducked his back   
  
swing and lunged in under his arm. Looping my left arm around his right one, I   
  
stepped back and wrenched his arm downwards. It was a spur-of-the-moment   
  
version of a move I'd been taught in karate class, and it was pretty sloppy, but it   
  
worked: Kevin bent over rather than have his arm broken, and I lifted my foot   
  
and stepped on his shoulder, forcing his head into the floor. He got a grip on my   
  
shirt, however, and tucked himself into a somersault, pulling me along for the   
  
ride. I put one arm over my head so it wouldn't hit the floor and curled up, then   
  
unrolled so I was lying flat on the floor as Kevin tried to stand up.   
  
I tightened my hold on his arm and kicked out at that spot above his elbow,   
  
then couldn't help wincing at the bubbly crunch I heard. I swallowed hard – I'd   
  
only ever practiced that move in the dojo, where nobody actually hurt anybody   
  
else. I'd never seen it used in real life, forget used it myself, and nobody ever   
  
thinks to prepare you for what happens when you do use it.   
  
Rolling away as Kevin swore loudly, I found the side of a crate and used it to   
  
pull myself onto my feet, then ran around behind it and waited. I crouched on   
  
the floor and listened to the sounds of the blonde man stumbling around and   
  
swearing like a sailor. His sword hit the floor with a metallic clang and rocked   
  
back and forth before settling down. As I tried desperately and unsuccessfully to   
  
think of a plan, the torrent of foul language gradually quieted down, and there   
  
was a scrape as Kevin picked his sword up off the floor again. I held my breath   
  
and waited to be found, but nothing happened. Looking left and right, listening   
  
hard, I couldn't sense him anywhere, and I started to become uneasy. The last   
  
time I had lost track of him had ended up with my running into him face-first. I   
  
didn't want that to happen again, so I slowly stood up, looking into the corners   
  
of the room and around the crate I was hiding behind.   
  
Just as I poked my face around the front corner of the box, peering toward the   
  
stairwell, I heard a swishing noise about two feet away. I jumped and yanked   
  
back, but it was too late – Kevin's fist connected with my face so hard I was   
  
slammed up and back over the edge of the crate. I slumped slowly backwards,   
  
unable to see, the pain in my nose and cheek an explosion that eclipsed   
  
everything else. Something had broken, but I couldn't tell what, and for some   
  
reason I suddenly didn't care.   
  
Gravity rolled me over onto my stomach, so I was staring at the grey concrete   
  
floor over the back edge of the crate, watching my own blood dripping down   
  
and forming a puddle on the ground. There was a yell behind me, and I heard a   
  
second voice, followed immediately by the clang of sword on sword. Though I   
  
had no idea what was happening, it didn't puzzle me. Nothing seemed strange   
  
anymore…nothing seemed really anything anymore, actually…the words to a   
  
song I knew floated through my head as I lay there.   
  
"I'm sailing like a ship on the sea, I don't care if I'm lost in the haze…I hear   
  
the angels singing softly to me…time to hear the beat that you never see, would   
  
you come and slip away…" 


	30. She Told the Truth?

SouthernChickie: thoughts on my other story are: WRITER'S BLOCK! Hoping   
  
to finish it eventually, when I figure out what's happening. Currently in the   
  
middle of a chapter, but have been that way for weeks…  
  
MorganaPendragon: yes, lots of questions! Many of them will be answered in   
  
this chappy. As for the others…no, Kevin broke Kat's nose. Kat didn't do it   
  
herself. (Sorry, had to say that!) Millie shall play her part, as shall Nick. You   
  
must read to find out how!   
  
* * *   
  
~Amy~   
  
Alex and I crouched in a small area created by three stacks of crates against the   
  
left wall, nervously waiting and wondering what was going on. We had been   
  
running for a hiding place, with Kat following us, when she suddenly shrieked   
  
and her footsteps stopped. I turned around to see what was wrong, and just   
  
caught a glimpse of her disappearing in a different direction. Unsure why she   
  
had changed her mind, Alex and I decided to keep going forward, and we found   
  
this nice little hiding spot. It was near the front of the room, I could tell, but it   
  
was definitely out of sight – and that was what mattered.   
  
We sat and listened to Kat's footsteps fading quickly away, and then there was   
  
a muted crash, followed a moment later by voices. One was low and the other   
  
sounded choked, so they were hard to hear.   
  
"…before you die…" Alex and I looked at each other. It seemed Kat had run   
  
into Kevin.   
  
"…Nice…you too…" I frowned and kept listening.   
  
"Can't say…same…"   
  
"…much of a difference…" Suddenly the second voice grew louder, and I   
  
could tell it was Kat's.   
  
"Wait!" she cried. "There was a purple light – back there – it's chasing me"-   
  
her sentence was cut off, and I made a face. She was still on about whatever that   
  
freak story was that she'd made up. I was beginning to wonder if something in   
  
her mind had gone wrong. The whole immortal thing…well, I still hadn't   
  
decided on that, but what did a purple snake-thing have to do with anything?   
  
And why would a purple snake chase Kat?   
  
"Why thank you…" came Kevin's voice. A moment later, we heard the sound   
  
of footsteps again, two sets this time, coming toward us. I gritted my teeth and   
  
waited to be found, but the steps passed us by without stopping, and I let out a   
  
sigh of relief. The footsteps halted and there was silence for several moments,   
  
which was broken by the unmistakable whistling of a blade cutting through air.   
  
This was followed by a series of thumps and a crunching noise that caused me   
  
to pull a face – it sounded suspiciously human somehow, like somebody who   
  
falls off a bridge and hits pavement…I shook my head as a sudden string of   
  
curses rang through the room in Kevin's voice. I couldn't tell if he was angry or   
  
in pain or both, and I wished I knew what was going on between him and Kat.   
  
Eventually the cursing died out and the horrible silence reigned again. This   
  
time, however, it wasn't for long – thump, crack *smack!* Alex ducked as I   
  
pulled another involuntary face. I heard Kat groan, and suddenly I couldn't take   
  
it anymore – I had to know what was going on. I shot to my feet and ran out of   
  
our hiding place, ignoring Alex's hissed protests. Running as fast as I could, I   
  
stopped when I reached the front of the room. I saw Kevin immediately, but I   
  
also saw someone else coming up the stairs. It was a face I recognized, but not a   
  
person I could say I knew. The name came to me instantly, but I couldn't decide   
  
whether or not to believe my own eyes. If I wasn't seeing things…maybe Kat's   
  
stories had soaked into my head…but if, maybe, it was true…then Kat was   
  
right. The man in front of me certainly seemed real enough as he charged into   
  
the room, long coat flying out behind him, and looked frantically left and right   
  
as if searching for something. When he spotted Kevin, he strode purposely   
  
forward with the long silver sword he was carrying held out in front of him.   
  
"Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," he snapped, instantly confirming   
  
my suspicions.   
  
"Well, well," said Kevin. "What an honor." I think he was trying to say it   
  
slowly so as to sound intimidating, but whatever stress he was under – probably   
  
the same thing that had caused the recent fit of profanity – was causing the   
  
words to come fast and strained, making him simply hard to understand instead   
  
of threatening.   
  
"I believe I was invited," said Duncan. "If you can justify calling it that. On   
  
second thought, I was actually threatened to come."   
  
"Why, of course," replied Kevin. "You're always welcome here."   
  
"Thanks so much," was the sarcastic reply. "It's so nice to know I have   
  
somewhere to go. Hopefully that's when you're not here." I stood rooted to my   
  
spot on the floor, just watching and listening in amazement. Everything Kat had   
  
said suddenly seemed to be true – I mean, Duncan himself was standing just   
  
twenty feet away with a sword in his hand, facing off an enemy. And, I noted,   
  
looking extremely pissed off. "So, did Kat and her friends survive a night with   
  
you? Or did I come here for nothing?"   
  
I was wondering how he had known we were here, and then it hit me – Kevin   
  
had probably told him. I realized that's why we were here; the reason for our   
  
kidnapping snapped into my head as if it had been perfectly obvious all along.   
  
Kevin was holding us hostage to get Duncan into his lair, because he would   
  
never have come out here otherwise…we were nothing more than bait.   
  
"Oh, they're around here someplace," Kevin told Duncan. He waved an arm at   
  
the room in general, and I saw the reason for his stress: one of his arms was bent   
  
at a strange angle, clearly broken. Probably Kat's work, I thought. I'd never   
  
actually seen her fight, but I knew she had an attitude, a temper, and several   
  
years of karate training. It was quite likely, in my opinion, that she'd managed   
  
to disable Kevin like that. But…I frowned. If she'd gotten the advantage, where   
  
was she? And why was Kevin still standing?   
  
"Kat, for one, is right there," Kevin continued. "As for the others – well, if you   
  
can find them, you can try to get them out of here. Provided, of course, that I   
  
don't find them first." 


	31. Strategy

Kitty: Interesting advice…why do you say that?   
  
Kitty: (2nd review): summer camp, family reunion, decisions about school,   
  
learning to drive, and general chaos…hey, you did ask.   
  
* * *   
  
I'm still not quite clear on exactly what happened, but I know that I made a   
  
stupid move, and Kevin was both fast and well armed.   
  
He said that Kat was "right over there," I took a step forward to try to see her,   
  
and the next thing I knew, my arms were being twisted behind my back and   
  
there was a knife point at my throat. I held perfectly still, afraid of what he   
  
would do to me if I didn't.   
  
"So, now what?" he asked, almost conversationally. I couldn't tell if he was   
  
talking to me or to Duncan, but it didn't matter – I wasn't going to answer in   
  
either case. I was facing Duncan with Kevin behind me, and as I stood there I   
  
watched Duncan's eyes narrow as he hefted his sword.   
  
"Was there ever a time when you played by the rules?" he asked. I couldn't   
  
identify the emotion in his voice, if there even was any.   
  
"No," was the simple reply, and I barely suppressed a shiver. The friendliness   
  
was gone as if it had never been there, and the tone in that voice was colder than   
  
ice.   
  
* * *   
  
Millie had been keeping up with the bike for at least half an hour, and she was   
  
beginning to get winded by the time they drew near the warehouse. She paused   
  
at the driveway to see what Nick would do – and as she had suspected, he   
  
glanced at it, then continued without a stopping. Millie, however, had other   
  
plans, and it was just as well that Nick wouldn't be involved.   
  
Trotting along in the underbrush parallel to the entrance road, the soft whisper   
  
seeped into her mind that told her human immortals were near. It seemed there   
  
were three of them – no, two – no…there were at least two, with a third whisper   
  
that flickered in and out like the human it belonged to was unconscious. Her   
  
whiskers folded forward in a frown.   
  
Right on, Duncan, she thought. Here we go.   
  
* * *   
  
Duncan knew the second Kevin grabbed Amy that there was going to be   
  
trouble – more than he had already suspected. He could see that Kat had already   
  
been taken out of the action, and he realized that things must not have been   
  
going the way Kevin intended. If they were, the girls would probably all be   
  
stuffed in a corner, bound, gagged and blindfolded. The fact that they seemed to   
  
be free to roam the second floor puzzled Duncan. However, he thought, there   
  
will be time to work out that mystery later – right now there are more important   
  
things to worry about. Like whether Amy is going to survive the next five   
  
minutes.   
  
"So," said Kevin in that icy tone, "What now, Mr. McLeod? Isn't this your big   
  
chance to play hero? To save three innocent female lives in one amazing battle?   
  
To be the big shot?" He paused, watching Duncan steadily. When nobody   
  
moved, he continued, "Well? I'm waiting."   
  
"Kevin," said Duncan calmly, "I'm going to ask you again the same thing that   
  
I believe I asked you last night." He started to pace deliberately back and forth,   
  
twirling his sword slowly in one hand while watching Kevin and Amy out of the   
  
corner of his eye. "I hope you will answer me this time. What do you want?"   
  
Kevin raised an eyebrow.   
  
"The same thing I have always wanted, McLeod. Being as old and *wise* as   
  
you are, I would think you would have figured it out by now. I only want the   
  
same thing that any sensible person wants – power. The difference between our   
  
kind and the rest of humanity, however, is that we can actually get it, unlike the   
  
rest of those sniveling, conniving, sensitive little whelps." With that last phrase,   
  
he jerked the knife farther toward Amy's face, and her eyes widened as she tried   
  
to lean back and found Kevin in the way.   
  
Duncan thought for a moment about what Kevin had said, then replied, "That's   
  
all very well, if a little unimaginative. But it's not terribly relevant. I was   
  
wondering what exactly you want today." The light patterns dancing off the   
  
sword flashed quicker as he started to twirl the weapon faster. "You've   
  
managed to get four of us into your little hideout, and two of us are immortal.   
  
All right, now what do you plan to do with us? Unless you have a few helpers   
  
hidden around here"- he made a show of glancing around the room, then   
  
returned his attention to Kevin –"which you don't seem to, I believe you're just   
  
a little outnumbered. Not to use a cliché, but did you, perhaps, bite off more   
  
than you can chew?" Kevin just smiled.   
  
"Not really. After all, I seem to have only two opponents. Despite the fact that   
  
there are four of you, two of them seem to me to be a bit incapacitated right   
  
now. And not only that, but in case you hadn't noticed, the third one isn't even   
  
here."   
  
Duncan had noticed, but felt it wasn't a good idea to admit to Kevin that he   
  
wondered about it. Alex was undoubtedly somewhere nearby, and she was   
  
probably in a better position than Amy or Kat at the moment. Provided, of   
  
course, that she was still alive. There was always the possibility, when someone   
  
like Kevin was around…Duncan shook his head and refocused on the two in   
  
front of him. Somehow he had to get Amy away from Kevin so they could get   
  
their fight over with without hurting her. The only problem, he realized, was   
  
that he didn't know Kevin well enough to know exactly how to do that.   
  
He didn't really need Kevin to tell him what he wanted. Duncan knew very   
  
well what Kevin wanted – his head, as well as Kat's. Kat's friends weren't   
  
really of any use to him except as bait, so he most likely considered them   
  
expendable, as well.   
  
I have a tough job ahead of me if I want to get us all out of here alive, he   
  
thought grimly. Well, I'd better get moving.   
  
"Listen," he said to Kevin, taking a step closer and breaking the path of his   
  
pacing, "Let her go," he nodded to Amy, "And you can have the fight that I   
  
think you want." Kevin shook his head, looking at Duncan like he was more   
  
than a little slow.   
  
"I don't want a fight," he said clearly. "I want to make a deal…" Duncan   
  
raised an eyebrow, aware that he was facing a man with a strategy.   
  
"Then shoot."   
  
"I kill her," he said slowly, gesturing to Amy with the knife, "And the rest of   
  
you can go in peace." Amy's expression suddenly turned terrified, and she   
  
started to struggle in Kevin's grasp. "I don't think so," Kevin snarled at her,   
  
viciously tightening his hold. She stopped moving, but was clearly still looking   
  
for a way out.   
  
Meanwhile, Duncan carefully kept a steady on his expression on his face as he   
  
tried to figure out the rules of this game. Kevin probably expected him to refuse   
  
the deal…in which case, he would likely kill his captive anyway, then go after   
  
the rest of them because the deal hadn't worked. However, if Duncan agreed,   
  
Amy would still die – and Kevin's word was no guarantee that they would   
  
really be allowed to leave. He frantically tried to think of something, anything,   
  
that would get Amy out of the way long enough…his thoughts were halted as   
  
Kevin suddenly laughed.   
  
"Too long to decide," he said. "I'm sorry, did I forget to mention there was a   
  
time limit? Well, it's a bit late now. I guess you've accepted, haven't you?" He   
  
pinned Amy against the crate behind him and turned to look her in the face.   
  
"Say cheese," he told her, and drew back the knife. As he started to bring it   
  
forward, Duncan made a desperate lunge. Kevin was just within his reach…at   
  
least until Duncan tripped over something that definitely hadn't been there a   
  
moment ago. He missed Kevin entirely and went sprawling on the concrete   
  
floor, Amy's screams echoing in his ears. 


	32. The Advantages of Looking Insane

SouthernChickie: sorry for the confusion. The first paragraph was from Amy's   
  
pov – the rest of it was third person. The following is also third person.   
  
MorganaPendragon: Yeah, I think you have it about right…anyway, you'll get   
  
to see what happens to Amy here. You'll also see where everyone else went.   
  
Kitty: ok, that makes sense – I'll try to take your advice.   
  
* * *   
  
Kevin didn't see her come flying over the stack of crates until he was on the   
  
floor with Alex standing on his chest. The knife flew out of his hand and   
  
skittered out of sight as a small, furry grey shape dashed around a corner and   
  
Duncan rolled over and slowly picked himself up off the floor. Amy stopped   
  
screaming when she saw she wasn't about to die, and there was sudden silence   
  
in the room. Duncan, who had been expecting the worst, just stood and looked   
  
at the scene in front of him in surprise. He glanced at the floor to see what he   
  
had tripped over, but found nothing. Frowning, he looked back at Amy, then to   
  
Kevin and Alex, but couldn't figure out what had happened.   
  
"That would be me you stepped on," said a sudden sarcastic voice from the   
  
ceiling. The heads of everyone in the room snapped up to find the source of the   
  
voice, and perching on a steel crossbeam was a little grey cat, watching the   
  
group with a sneer in the angle of her whiskers.   
  
"Millie?" wondered Alex out loud. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Helping," she replied. From the look on Alex's face, she hadn't expected an   
  
answer. Amy's mouth dropped open.   
  
"I did not just hear a cat talk," she said firmly, then glanced around as if she   
  
was looking for someone to support her statement.   
  
"Did you not?" asked Millie. "Unless you're deaf, I believe you actually did   
  
'just hear a cat talk,' as you put it." Amy stood still and watched Millie with her   
  
mouth open and her eyebrows in the air, and Alex looked nearly the same.   
  
Duncan just shook his head.   
  
"Could you please not provoke anyone right now?" he asked with a sigh. "We   
  
really don't need it." Millie just raised a corner of her mouth so one fang was   
  
visible, a cat's version of flipping them all off, then sat still and quiet.   
  
"Anyway," said Duncan, starting to walk over toward Kevin, then stopping   
  
when he noticed that the man on floor had already managed to find another   
  
knife. He scowled, remembering previous encounters with Kevin when he had   
  
discovered the hard way just how many knives the man could, and did, carry at   
  
once. The knife he was holding at that moment, however, was not about to be   
  
used on Duncan, but on Alex – and she couldn't see it. She had moved so that   
  
she was standing with on foot on either side of Kevin, keeping him on the floor,   
  
and he was slowly inching the hand with the blade closer to her leg from   
  
behind. Duncan knew that if he tried to reach them, Kevin would immediately   
  
dispense with the stealth and just hurt Alex any way he could before Duncan   
  
could interfere.   
  
Kevin's eyes slid sideways and found Duncan watching him, and a slow, smug   
  
grin spread across his face as the knife continued along its path without   
  
hesitation. There was only one thing to do: "Jump!" Duncan yelled at Alex, who   
  
turned around, startled, but her feet didn't leave the ground.   
  
"Who are you?" she asked. Duncan slapped his hand to his forehead as   
  
Kevin's knife speeded up – it had been a gamble, and he had failed again. Then   
  
suddenly he heard Millie laughing, and he froze and watched the scene in front   
  
of him in absolute disbelief.   
  
Alex turned back to Kevin, still unaware that she was about to be stabbed, as a   
  
shape came flying out from between two crates and smashed into her. The two   
  
of them sailed through the air a short distance before crashing to the floor in a   
  
heap. The person rolled off of Alex and stood up, then leaned over to help her   
  
off the floor.   
  
"Kat?" asked Alex, shocked.   
  
"What?" she retorted, grinning lopsidedly.   
  
"I should be asking you that…" said Alex, looking at Kat's face. Her grin   
  
didn't match the condition she was in – her arms were scratched, and her clothes   
  
and hair were a mess, but what really startled Alex was the blood running from   
  
her mouth in a slow but steady stream. Half her face was smeared with red, and   
  
it was dripping off her chin and soaking into her shirt. All in all, Alex thought,   
  
pretty horrifying. But at least she's here again.   
  
"Do you want a hand or not?" Kat asked, still waiting to help Alex off the   
  
floor.   
  
"Uh, sure, yeah," she replied, taking Kat's hand and coming to her feet.   
  
"Now," said Kat, spinning around to Kevin, who had already stood up and was   
  
watching them. "As for you – drop the knife." Kevin raised an eyebrow.   
  
"And why should I do that?"   
  
"Because I'm challenging you to a fight without blades." The same surprised   
  
expression passed over the faces of everyone in the room as they watched. Even   
  
Millie quirked an eyebrow, trying to figure out whether Kat was brave or just   
  
stupid.   
  
Kat just stood with her fists at her side, her grin gone and a glare fixed in its   
  
place, waiting for Kevin to answer.   
  
"Kat, don't," Duncan warned quietly, deciding it was time to step in and take   
  
care of this.   
  
"Thanks for the help," she replied, "But no thanks. Stay out of this for now –   
  
he's mine until I can't move anymore." Duncan rolled his eyes.   
  
"Should I just give up now?" he said to Millie out of the corner of his mouth.   
  
"That might be an idea," she replied. Against what his better judgment was   
  
telling him, Duncan sheathed his sword, crossed his arms, and prepared to   
  
watch, something he hadn't done in a very long time.   
  
Kevin's eyes shifted left and right, before he gave in and tossed the knife   
  
aside. Looking back at Kat, he grinned. "Happy now?"   
  
"Get rid of the rest of them, too," she instructed.   
  
"Uh, what?" He held out his empty hands. "I don't have any more knives." Kat   
  
suddenly leaned into his face, putting her hands on his shoulders and holding   
  
him against the crate at his back.   
  
"I said get rid of them!" she repeated, but this time she was grinning and there   
  
was a slightly manic look in her eyes.   
  
"Ok, ok," said Kevin. "If you'll let me go…" Kat released him and he fumbled   
  
to reach his many stashes of blades. The sight of Kat grinning insanely, with   
  
blood still running from her mouth, had obviously unnerved him – exactly as   
  
she had intended it to.   
  
Kevin pulled three knives out of his belt and tossed them away, then added   
  
seven more to those from a pair of wrist sheathes.   
  
"Well, this is fun," Kat said to Duncan as she watched Kevin disarm. Duncan   
  
just shook his head, not knowing what to make of the whole situation.   
  
Kevin followed the previous blades with two from inside the work boots he   
  
was wearing, finally finishing with his sword.   
  
"All right," he said, his confidence seeping back into his voice, "What else do   
  
you want?" Kat smiled.   
  
"I want to beat the crap out of you. I thought you were smart enough to figure   
  
that out." Kevin smiled right back at her.   
  
"Then why don't you go ahead and try?"   
  
"Because I don't like the look of that knife in your right hand." Watching   
  
them, Duncan blinked – he hadn't even noticed the dull glint of metal, but sure   
  
enough, there it was. Good catch, he thought. I wonder how many more he's   
  
got. "Ditch it," Kat commanded. Kevin sighed and chucked it away to rest with   
  
the others. "Are you really sure that's all of them?" she asked deliberately.   
  
Kevin nodded.   
  
"But what about you?" he asked. "You wouldn't tell me to disarm and then   
  
keep a weapon yourself, would you?" Kat shook her head.   
  
"No weapons," she said. "I lost my knife a few minutes ago."   
  
"Ok." Kevin nodded, but the glint in his eyes showed that he felt he had this   
  
fight easily. "So what are you"- Kat suddenly turned around, peering toward the   
  
stairwell with her back to Kevin.   
  
"What was that?" she asked. "Did you hear that?"   
  
"Kat!" yowled Millie suddenly. "Don't turn your back"- it was too late. Kevin   
  
leaped forward, grabbing Kat around the neck. He didn't have a knife, but he   
  
didn't one – his grip was tight enough to cut off her air, and she started choking.   
  
"No!" yelled Amy, starting forward, but Duncan stopped her – he had seen   
  
something that even Millie hadn't. Kat was exactly where she wanted to be. She   
  
had planned this. 


	33. Temper, Temper

MP: what exactly are you confuddled about? I can't clear it up if I don't know what to   
  
clear up…  
  
ShadowTamer/Kitty: (make up your mind, hehe) thanks  
  
~ ~ ~   
  
~ Kat's pov ~   
  
I waited a few seconds after Kevin grabbed me, gagging rather convincingly since I was   
  
honestly being choked, so that he would think he had me. I hoped that it wouldn't be long   
  
enough for him to find another knife somewhere – he certainly seemed to have a lot of   
  
them.   
  
I had gotten myself into this position on purpose so that I would be able to surprise him.   
  
He had been expecting me to attack after he disarmed, and was just waiting for me to   
  
make a move. The one thing he hadn't expected me to do was turn my back.   
  
When I got tired of the lack of oxygen, I wrenched forwards and jammed my right   
  
elbow into my captor's stomach. I heard a grunt, and he leaned forward just as I was   
  
expecting, to meet my backfist with his nose. He let go of me and staggered backwards,   
  
bent over with one hand on his stomach and one over his face. Taking advantage of his   
  
weakness, I leaped forward and punched him in the side as hard as I could. He twisted   
  
sideways, and I moved in to attack again.   
  
He must have been faking at least some of his pain, because the next thing I knew his   
  
fist came up under my chin, my head snapped backwards and I bit through my lower lip.   
  
It was my turn to stagger away, wincing as I tried desperately to get my teeth out of my   
  
lip and fix my sudden disorientation. I felt around and leaned against the wall I found   
  
near the doorway, my eyes streaming tears and my mouth streaming blood. Hurriedly   
  
wiping my eyes with my hands, I spat gently, trying not to hurt my mouth further – but   
  
suddenly the pain seemed not to matter anymore. I could barely feel it, and what I did   
  
feel wasn't bothering me, but serving to fuel my sharply rising temper. How dare Kevin   
  
just take us away, tie us up, leave us alone, and not tell us what he was going to do? What   
  
had we ever done to him that gave him the right to do that to us? It was like when I had   
  
fought Snell the day before – (was it really that recently?) My anger was eclipsing all   
  
other emotions, taking over and leaving only one thought in my head: destroy. Must   
  
destroy Kevin if it is the last thing I do.   
  
The room around me came back into focus as I scrubbed the tears away, and Kevin's   
  
leering face appeared in my line of vision. I glared at him, noting somewhere in the back   
  
of my brain that I had never hated anybody as much as I hated him at that moment.   
  
"C'mon then," I said to him. "What're ya fwaiting fer?" The damage to my mouth made   
  
it hard to talk and caused me to spit even more blood, but I managed to make myself   
  
understandable, albeit with a heavy lisp. "Scfared of me, are ya? Whatsyer froblem?"   
  
"I wasn't aware I had one," was the icy reply. His confidently good mood had   
  
disappeared.   
  
"Well, be afware," I snapped, and lashed out like I was going to slap him. When he   
  
moved to block my arm, my other hand snapped out and delivered a hard punch to his left   
  
eye. His face contorted into an ugly mask of anger as he glared at me through one eye, his   
  
other one being squeezed shut, and suddenly my face was stinging as he slapped me   
  
faster than I could see. That was it for me – I launched myself at him with a snarl,   
  
bringing him to the floor and beating him with all the energy I could muster.   
  
I punched him once, twice, three times before he rolled over and pinned me to the floor,   
  
giving me the same treatment. His fist sank into my stomach and I gagged as the wind   
  
was knocked out of me, and barely managed to twist out of the way as I saw his punch   
  
aiming for my head. Kevin was sitting on one of my arms, but the other one was free, and   
  
I swung at him for all I was worth, missing several times before catching him in the jaw.   
  
He grunted and put a hand to his mouth, and with a concentrated burst of energy I   
  
wrenched myself upright and hit him again. Reeling back, he crawled off me, and I   
  
managed to find a half a second to get my breath back before rolling to my feet and   
  
kicking the blond man as hard as I could. The more hurt I got, the more my temper rose,   
  
and I was determined by that point that Kevin was going to die.   
  
Unlike my battle with Snell, this time I really was thinking about the outcome – I knew   
  
that I wanted Kevin gone, out of this world, as dead as I could make him without killing   
  
myself. Nobody was going to help me, and that's the way I wanted it.   
  
Determination helped me ignore the rest of the already surprisingly small amount of   
  
pain I was feeling, and when Kevin pulled himself to his feet again, I laid into him with   
  
all I had – punching, kicking, hitting, I didn't care what it was as long as it hurt. Kevin   
  
was fast, and I took several nasty hits myself, but nothing could deter me at that point.   
  
My goal was fixed in my mind and nothing was going to stop me…  
  
I just managed to get an impression of Kevin's face in front of mine, his fist and his   
  
knee – and then I suddenly found myself flying through the air, out of control and not   
  
quite sure how I had gotten there. Before I could think, I hit the concrete floor facedown   
  
with a crack that horrified me even through my shield of anger. I lay there for a moment,   
  
not moving, trying to get my body and brain working again.   
  
No, I thought. Kevin's coming…I have to get up…  
  
But I couldn't seem to move. My head was swimming and I couldn't focus. My body   
  
wouldn't respond to my brain, and my brain couldn't decide what to do. Then I heard   
  
footsteps coming near, followed by Kevin's laugh.   
  
"Looks like you're just a little over-confident," came his voice from above my head.   
  
Move, I told myself. My legs twitched, but if he was holding a sword over me, there   
  
was no way I could be fast enough. "I think even you have to admit I won fair and square   
  
– no weapons, I gave you your chance. But I've played your game for long enough." I   
  
groaned silently as I heard the distinct whistle of a sword blade slicing air as Kevin raised   
  
the weapon I now knew he was carrying over his head, preparing to cut me into pieces.   
  
"No!" somebody suddenly screamed, just as I thought the very same thing. I am not   
  
going to die now, I told myself. I can't just give up – there's got to be something I can do,   
  
some way…and with a sudden burst of strength that could only have come from pure   
  
adrenaline, since I had nothing else left, I came to all fours and pulled myself off the   
  
floor.   
  
My skin burned and my temper blazed back into brilliant life as I felt an inexplicable   
  
surge of power. Coming to my feet and raising my hands above my head, I drew on the   
  
anger, calling on something I had never felt before but knew for some reason was there.   
  
A sensation like liquid fire poured through my body, and I screamed my fury as I saw   
  
Kevin through a fiery haze, still holding his sword but not looking nearly so sure of   
  
himself anymore. I also saw Amy – and she too was holding a sword, racing at Kevin   
  
from behind. He didn't know she was there, and I saw she was going to kill him.   
  
You don't want to do this, I though. Just stop right there, I'll do it for you. You don't   
  
know what you're getting yourself into.   
  
Switching my gaze back to my enemy, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Duncan, and   
  
noticed that his expression had changed drastically, from minorly annoyed to wide-eyed   
  
with fear. It puzzled me, but I was too far gone into whatever power I had found to think   
  
about it.   
  
Concentrating on Kevin, I screamed again and released the burning fury I had called up.   
  
I realized I was starting to scare even myself at that point – I didn't know what was going   
  
on, didn't know what I was doing, except for one thing: I was suddenly in control of an   
  
enormous amount of very dangerous energy. And it was too late to stop whatever I had   
  
just released…my vision blurred, swimming and burning at the edges with brilliant fire,   
  
red, orange and white…I heard Duncan shouting something in a panicky voice, Alex and   
  
Amy screaming, Kevin's terrified yells…a distant explosion…and then nothing. 


	34. Never Too Young To Die

The room in front of me exploded in a ball of orange fire, and I felt heat blasting  
  
across my face in waves, hot enough to scorch instant holes in my clothes, but   
  
for some reason it didn't hurt. I relaxed into it, my eyes closed since I couldn't  
  
see anything anyway. There was a sensation like I was flying, and the screams   
  
and yells of the people around me faded into oblivion as I sailed to who-knew-  
  
where. There was a distant explosion and the roar of something burning at full   
  
force, the crack of things being torn apart. I couldn't have opened my eyes at   
  
that point even if I'd wanted to. The heat slowly faded, although it didn't   
  
disappear completely, and my spacey flying feeling was brought to an abrupt   
  
halt when I came down on my back on something solid. My head hit half a   
  
second after the rest of me, and I felt nothing else.   
  
* * *   
  
~ third person ~  
  
Duncan hit the ground under the trees with a thump, still desperately fighting  
  
for a hold on the energy he was controlling. Dealing with the explosive power   
  
of what Kat had released was a bigger job than he ever could have imagined. He   
  
had never seen a new immortal who was so powerful. And he wasn't going to   
  
be able to hold it off completely - he wasn't even going to try. He had just   
  
enough control to try to keep them from getting hurt. Kevin hadn't been   
  
protected, of course - they had been trying to kill him, after all. Duncan knew   
  
that Kevin had seen what was coming and would've been prepared to deal with   
  
the energy, but even if he had somehow fought that off, he hadn't seen Amy   
  
behind him. Duncan frowned at the thought - Amy had been awfully close to   
  
Kevin. Probably within sword range. She might have hit Kevin first...what if   
  
she had?   
  
He hurried to his feet, looking around the forest and listening carefully. There  
  
was the sound and smell of burning everywhere, but he was searching for   
  
something else...there it was. Duncan swore to himself - they didn't need this.   
  
They really didn't need this, but he couldn't deny hearing the frightened   
  
screams, and he hurried toward them. Dashing through the maze of trees, it   
  
wasn't long before he came across the lightning storm he had been expecting.   
  
Bolts of blue lightning flashed down from the sky and a glow filled the air,   
  
surrounding a panicked girl whose waist-length brown hair flew around her in   
  
the fake wind created by the Quickening. Amy was struggling, trying to run, but   
  
her feet couldn't touch the ground as she twisted and turned in mid-air. Duncan   
  
stood as close as he could safely get and waited until Amy noticed him. It   
  
wasn't long.   
  
She yelled something at him, but he wasn't quite sure what it was - between   
  
the roar of the flames and the crackle of the lightning, it was very hard to hear  
  
a human voice.   
  
"It'll be over in a minute!" he called to her. "It's going to be ok!"   
  
"Wha-?" she yelled back. She was now upside-down, still suspended and   
  
unable to touch the ground, although she was reaching desperately for it.   
  
Suddenly Duncan heard a second voice.   
  
"What's going on?" somebody shouted - it wasn't Kat, and Duncan whirled   
  
around, hoping against hope that a mortal hadn't showed up already. It was a   
  
mortal, but not one that was a threat. Alex ran towards him, looking almost as   
  
scared Amy, as well as mightily confused. Catching sight of Amy trapped in the   
  
lightning with her feet in the air, Alex's mouth dropped open and her eyes   
  
widened. "What the hell are you doing to her?" she screamed at Duncan,   
  
continuing to run past him. He was so taken aback that he didn't stop her as   
  
she dashed over to Amy...it was Duncan's turn to be shocked as Alex went   
  
right through the lightning, headed for Amy at full speed.   
  
Alex never made it all the way to Amy - a bolt of lightning struck her almost   
  
instantly, and she was knocked to the ground, unconscious. Duncan rested his   
  
forehead against a tree and groaned in disbelief. He had no idea what happened   
  
to mortals who got involved in other people's Quickenings, and he had never   
  
wanted to know. Unfortunately, he was about to find out.   
  
The lightning died out a moment later, and Duncan watched as the last of the   
  
energy hit Amy and knocked her out, too. When he was sure the storm was   
  
over, he approached Alex cautiously and knelt down beside her. She had landed   
  
on her side, and he rolled her onto her back so he could see her face. Her eyes   
  
were closed, and she lay perfectly still...too still...  
  
With a blank face, dreading what he would find, Duncan put his fingers to her   
  
neck, checking for a pulse. He felt nothing.   
  
Maybe I missed it, he thought, and tried again. Still nothing. He drew a deep   
  
breath, his lips pressed tightly together, and came slowly to his feet. Shaking   
  
his head, he tore his eyes away from Alex's face and stared at the sky.   
  
Such a shame, he thought, watching storm clouds roll in but not noticing them.  
  
She was too young for this. If only I had stopped her...  
  
Stop, he told himself. You won't get anywhere with what-ifs. He leaned   
  
against a tree and crossed his arms, his back to the two girls lying on the   
  
ground. He wasn't looking forward to Amy and Kat waking up and asking him   
  
when Alex would do the same... 


	35. The Beginning of the End

A/N: Hi everybody. I know it's been a while…I just can't get inspired for some   
  
reason…but I'm trying to wrap things up in the next few chapters, so hang in   
  
there for a little longer! The following is from Duncan's pov. Not to be obvious   
  
or anything, but just so everyone's clear and doesn't have to ask questions I   
  
could've answered beforehand.   
  
MP: Yes, there are going to be more stories. Because of that, not quite   
  
*everything* is going to be wrapped up at the end here...but this chapter isn't   
  
the end. Hehe, yes, I like the unexpected...and there will be more here. Is   
  
Alex dead? See for yourself. (I don't answer questions that will give away the   
  
story for my readers! At least not here, at the beginning of a chapter...)  
  
~ ~ ~   
  
I continued to stare at the sky, not moving, watching the storm clouds roll in   
  
over the tops of the trees, listening to the crackle of the burning warehouse a   
  
scant thousand yards away. The fire department would undoubtedly not take   
  
long enough to show up – someone on the nearby highway would see the smoke   
  
and put in a call. We needed to leave, but not everyone was together yet. I still   
  
didn't know where Kat – or Millie, for that matter – had got to.   
  
I waited restlessly until I heard noises from the direction of the two girls   
  
behind me. Dreading it more with every step, but knowing I had to, I turned   
  
around and walked over to them. Amy's eyes were open, and she was sitting up   
  
and looking around her with a shocked expression – eyes wide, she looked   
  
slightly dazed. Well, more than slightly.   
  
She looked over, caught sight of me, and raised an eyebrow.   
  
"You again," she commented. "Duncan MacLeod, right?" I frowned. How did   
  
she know who I was? Had Kat told her? I had warned her not to repeat anything   
  
I said…  
  
"Don't blame Kat," Amy told me. "I've seen your face before. But what're   
  
you doing here?"   
  
"Where have you seen me?" I asked, ignoring her question for the moment,   
  
somewhat startled that she had guessed what I was thinking.   
  
I realized where as soon as she answered, "Highlander. People on TV tend to   
  
be seen, you know?"   
  
Damn show, I thought, shaking my head, then turned my attention back to the   
  
issues immediately at hand. Highlander wasn't worth get annoyed over at the   
  
moment.   
  
I nodded.   
  
"I guess so," I replied, but I'm not sure Amy heard me – her gaze was now on   
  
the curly-haired girl lying stretched out on the forest floor a few feet away.   
  
"Alex?" she asked the prostrate figure uncertainly. "Alex?" Getting no answer,   
  
Amy reached out and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, shaking her gently.   
  
"Alex!" she said a little more urgently, then looked up at me. "What's wrong   
  
with her?" she asked anxiously. "What happened?"   
  
I heaved a sigh and fixed a blank expression on my face.   
  
"She got involved in your Quickening," I explained, wishing I could hold off   
  
this moment just a little longer – at least until Amy could learn what she had   
  
become – but I was too far in and couldn't back out. "I believe she was trying to   
  
rescue you, because she didn't know what was going on. She ran into the power   
  
circle before I could stop her, and got hit…I'm sorry," I added softly, taking a   
  
deep breath. "I could've stopped her, and I didn't…"   
  
Amy looked alarmed.   
  
"So, what – how – is she going to be ok? She's not dead is she?" she gasped. I   
  
nodded slowly – this was it, the moment when I had to say what I wanted least   
  
in the world to say at that moment.   
  
"I'm afraid so."   
  
Amy sat frozen in shock for several moments, staring at nothing, as that sank   
  
in. Then she stared down at the limp form beside her in disbelief, reaching out   
  
to put her hand on Alex's back.   
  
"Alex?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "Alex! No," she muttered to   
  
herself. "You can't be…you're not…" But Alex didn't answer, and Amy slowly   
  
put her head in her hands and started to cry over her friend's body.   
  
"I'm sorry," I whispered, unsure quite what to do. I walked slowly over and   
  
kneeled on the ground beside Amy, who ignored me. Swallowing the lump that   
  
had begun to form in my own throat, I tried to think what to do. We really   
  
needed to get out of there, but not only was it a really bad time to inform Amy   
  
of that, but somebody would have to carry Alex's body, and I still had to find   
  
Kat, along with Millie, if possible. I bit my lip, reluctant to leave Amy alone,   
  
but deciding it had to be done for the sake of speed. "I'm going to go find Kat,"   
  
I said. I hadn't expected Amy to answer, but she raised her head and glared at   
  
me.   
  
"You better not find her like this," she said angrily, gesturing at Alex's body. I   
  
nodded sadly.   
  
"I'll do the best I can," I promised. "And if anybody shows up…no, never   
  
mind. I'll be back by then." Amy went back to staring at Alex as I reluctantly   
  
turned and walked away, heading through the woods closer to the flaming   
  
building. 


	36. The Triumphant and the Weary

Catharine: thanks for the advice. I realize that switching pov's as much as I do   
  
can be confusing, and I'll be trying not to use any new ones for the rest of the   
  
story…this story is an experiment for me more than anything else, so it's good   
  
to know what people think. As for the Kat/Duncan thing…it seems right now   
  
that they're unevenly matched power-wise, but there are some things you   
  
haven't seen yet. Also, remember that Duncan, being wiser than Kat, knows   
  
better than to show off whatever powers he may have, and Kat does not. And as   
  
another general explanation and note: I love to toss things up and turn worlds   
  
upside-down. (In case any of you hadn't figured that out yet…hehe.) So   
  
sometimes the characters will get turned on their heads…  
  
SouthernChickie: two words for you on the subject of New Girl In Town:   
  
Generation Divide. *hint hint* I really like that story!   
  
* * *   
  
~third person~  
  
Duncan walked swiftly toward the general area in which he thought he had seen   
  
Kat land. Just as he was wondering how exactly he was going to find her, a   
  
furry black-and-grey shape trotted towards him through the trees – Millie,   
  
smeared copiously with soot.   
  
"This way," she informed him, knowing instinctively who he was looking for,   
  
even though she hadn't heard his conversation with Amy. Duncan followed her   
  
for a few hundred feet, until she came to a stop in front of him and said, "Here."   
  
Duncan crouched down beside Kat's limp form. She wasn't dead, he noted,   
  
just unconscious. He carefully picked her up and started back toward the scene   
  
he had left moments before, more slowly now due to the added weight of Kat.   
  
Her head lolled back at an awkward angle as Duncan walked, and it looked to   
  
him as though she had a broken arm. He wasn't surprised – she'd probably had   
  
a very hard landing. He noticed she was also still drooling blood.   
  
Arriving back at the spot he had left Amy, he stopped short and nearly dropped   
  
Kat at the sight that awaited him: Amy standing, reaching down, and helping a   
  
very conscious Alex to do the same. Duncan couldn't stop his mouth from   
  
gaping like a fish on a beach – he had been positive Alex was dead. In fact, she   
  
*had* been dead, he was sure of it. She'd had no pulse. Therefore she was dead.   
  
But he couldn't deny the fact that she was now standing in front of him, and   
  
looking at the girl in his arms with some concern.   
  
"Kat?" she asked, then looked at Duncan. "Who are you? What happened to   
  
her? Is she alive? What's going on?"   
  
He blinked, sorting out the rush of questions.   
  
"She's alive," was the first thing he said, figuring it was the most important to   
  
Alex. "She's just been knocked out. She'll come around in a while."   
  
Alex breathed a sigh of relief.   
  
"Thank goodness," she said.   
  
The question, Duncan thought as he watched her, is why are you alive?   
  
"I'm Duncan," he told Alex, realizing that his question was irrelevant to the   
  
issues at hand. He would be grateful Alex was alive for now, and leave it at that   
  
until he had more time. "And we really have to get out of here," he added,   
  
hearing the first distant notes of sirens.   
  
"Ok," said Alex, and Amy nodded. Duncan led the way out of the woods   
  
toward the road, on the side he figured the fire trucks wouldn't be coming from.   
  
The two dazed girls came after him, and Millie brought up the rear of the little   
  
party with her tail held at a jaunty angle, like a cheerful furry flag. The two   
  
oldest members of the party felt a distant, but definite, sense of relief. They   
  
knew that although things were far from over, the worst was behind them.   
  
* * *   
  
~a little earlier~  
  
Nick slammed on his brakes when he heard the explosion, sending his mountain   
  
bike into a screeching slide and leaving black rubber streaks on the paved road.   
  
He immediately turned around and pedaled back the way he had come at a   
  
furious pace, forgetting the fatigue that had been starting to creep up on him.   
  
What on earth had just blown up? He glanced up from the road as he went, but   
  
couldn't see anything at all with the number of trees around him. After about   
  
five minutes, he started to see wisps of smoke in the sky, barely noticeable at   
  
first, then gradually getting thicker and darker. By that point he could smell it,   
  
and after a few more minutes he suddenly saw the flames, and was startled to   
  
realize they were coming form that warehouse he had passed not fifteen minutes   
  
before the explosion.   
  
With another 30 seconds or so of mad pedaling, Nick and his bike reached the   
  
entrance to the building's parking lot just as he started to hear sirens in the   
  
distance, over the now deafening roar of the flames. He stood still for a moment   
  
and watched with his mouth open as glass burst, metal bent and creaked, and   
  
smoke billowed as the ravenous flames consumed the warehouse.   
  
He didn't know how long he stayed there, just staring in awe-struck   
  
amazement at the spectacle before him, but the next thing he knew, huge fire   
  
trucks were pulling past him. Men in fire-fighting suits jumped off and behind   
  
unrolling long hoses from the trucks, and then a police car pulled in, finally   
  
distracting Nick from the actions of the fire-fighters. Two officers got out, and   
  
while one headed toward the red trucks, the other made her way toward Nick.   
  
She introduced herself as officer Parsons, and proceeded to question Nick as to   
  
his identity, why he was there, what had happened, where he was from, who he   
  
was with, and so many other questions that Nick quickly lost track. She finally   
  
told him that he would have to come back to the station with them, and it was   
  
then that he realized he was an arson suspect. 


	37. Almost an Explanation

MorganaPendragon: ok, fine, you get more! (Yes, two chapters in three days –   
  
I'm snowbound in my house and have pretty much nothing to do but write. You   
  
shall find out about Alex when Duncan figures it out. (Which, knowing him, may   
  
be awhile…hehe.))  
  
12/8/03: Well, it would've been three days, but I couldn't log in to post   
  
last night.  
  
* * *   
  
"Where are we going?" Alex finally thought to ask about fifteen minutes later.   
  
They had seen the fire trucks arrive behind them as they left, and had quickly   
  
hidden when they saw a police car not far behind. However, the officers didn't   
  
look in the woods – they seemed to be distracted by something, and although   
  
Alex couldn't see what it was, she was grateful for it. Being accused of arson   
  
was the last thing they needed right then.   
  
They had continued in their little procession in silence, dirty, aching, and   
  
exhausted, but triumphant, each lost in their own thoughts. Kat showed no signs   
  
of waking up, but Duncan didn't seem to mind carrying her. After all, he was   
  
the freshest of all of them, having done the least fighting.   
  
Alex was the first to speak since they had left the self-destructing scene of the   
  
battle, and Duncan sighed at her question. He had been pondering that since   
  
he'd heard the sirens, and could only come to one conclusion. It was too far to   
  
walk, and they couldn't hitchhike for two reasons: one, there were simply too   
  
many of them, and two, they had Kat with them, who would go straight to the   
  
hospital if anybody saw her. Duncan had thought about trying to clean her up   
  
and pretending she was asleep, but the chances of that actually working were   
  
too small to risk. There was only one thing he could think of to do, and an odd   
  
way he had thought of to do it…  
  
"Why don't we stop for a minute and discuss it," he suggested.   
  
"Ok." They all stopped, and Duncan put down Kat and sat down on the   
  
ground. Alex and Amy followed suit, and Millie climbed onto Duncan's   
  
shoulder.   
  
"What am I, the pack animal?" he protested good-naturedly. "So anyway," he   
  
said, turning to the two girls, who suddenly looked even more tired than they   
  
had a moment ago. Amy shook her head.   
  
"I feel like I'm about to fall asleep," she said.   
  
"Me too," Alex agreed with a yawn, and then they both did just that, Amy's   
  
head falling onto Alex's shoulder. Duncan grinned.   
  
"They sure didn't need much encouragement."   
  
Millie gave an impatient snort.   
  
"Really, Duncan, isn't there another way to do this?"   
  
Duncan raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Got any brilliant flashes of inspiration? No? I thought not."   
  
Millie rolled her eyes, settling down and digging her claws into the man's   
  
shoulder.   
  
"So," Duncan asked, "Where's the best place?"   
  
She thought for a minute, then answered, "Alex's house."   
  
"Ok. Where is it?"   
  
* * *   
  
When Alex woke up a while later, she blinked several times and yawned, then   
  
poked Amy, who was still leaning on her shoulder.   
  
"Hey, wake up, I think we both fell asleep for a minute there."   
  
"Huh?" Amy looked dazedly at her friend. "What's going on?"   
  
"We have to decide where to go, remember?"   
  
"Oh yeah." Amy yawned and sat up.   
  
Alex looked away from Amy, and her eyes suddenly widened.   
  
"What the - "   
  
Duncan smiled at her. He was still sitting in front of her, but their surroundings   
  
had changed completely. The last thing Alex remembered was sitting down in a   
  
forest about ten minute's walk from the I-95. Now they were in – her mouth   
  
dropped open. They were about two streets away from her house. How was that   
  
possible?   
  
"Sleep walk much?" he asked.   
  
"Not this far," Alex said uncertainly. Amy's reaction was slightly different.   
  
"What in hell did you do?" she demanded, thoroughly awake now. "We fall   
  
asleep for five minutes, and suddenly we're in the next town? How did we get   
  
here, by magic?"   
  
Duncan raised his eyebrows and wiggled his fingers.   
  
"Magic spell," he replied with a fairly straight face. Amy didn't find it quite so   
  
funny, as evidenced by her fierce glare.   
  
"Oh come on," she snapped. "Maybe to you this is all a big joke, but I don't   
  
happen to agree. If we can cross towns in our sleep, who knows what else   
  
could've happened to us? Anything, that's what! I have no idea where I've   
  
been, or how I got where I am, or what happened to me on the way. I mean,   
  
really -"   
  
She cut off her tirade when Millie hopped off of Duncan's shoulder and went   
  
to sit in front of her.   
  
"Hey," said Millie in a firm voice, "Cool it for a minute and give the man a   
  
chance to explain things, would you?" Amy paused to stare suspiciously at the   
  
cat for a moment before replying.   
  
"He doesn't seem terribly inclined to do that. And what's up with you,   
  
anyway?"   
  
Alex had been watching their little exchange in mild disbelief.   
  
"Are you Millie?" she finally asked hesitantly. Millie turned to look at her.   
  
"That would be the name I'm currently known by, yes. What I suspect you   
  
mean is, am I the Millie you know from Kat's house. Am I right?"   
  
Alex nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."   
  
"That would also be me then, yes," the cat told her, and turned her attention   
  
back to Amy. "As for "what's up" with me, as you put it…" She glanced over   
  
her shoulder at Duncan. "Maybe I'll leave that to Mac here. He got us into this –   
  
well, actually Kat did, but never mind that – and you're more likely to believe   
  
his word than mine anyhow. Besides -" she grinned "- it can be fun to watch   
  
him try to talk his way out of things."   
  
Duncan snorted.   
  
"Thanks for the encouragement," he told the cat, who simply flipped her tail at   
  
him in return. "Anyway…" he trailed off for a moment, seemingly searching for   
  
something to tell the two girls. He glanced at Amy, then shifted his gaze to Alex   
  
and watched her while continuing to think. After staring back at him for several   
  
moments, Alex figured out why he was looking at her.   
  
"I know I'm not immortal," she informed him, "but you'd better tell me, too. I   
  
don't care if the rules say you can't tell me – you told Kat, and I bet you're   
  
going to tell Amy. The only thing she did different from me was kill Kevin. It's   
  
only fair that I know why I was kidnapped, tied up, knocked out, and then   
  
nearly killed."   
  
Duncan looked at her a few seconds longer, then shook his head.   
  
"I'm sorry, Alex," he said. "I know it's not fair, but I can't. Telling Kat was   
  
the first mistake I made, and I've done nothing but screw up and make bad   
  
decisions from there. I'm not doing it again."   
  
Alex's mouth dropped open.   
  
"What?" she sputtered. "After all this, you say you can't tell me?" She looked   
  
at Amy, who appeared equally outraged.   
  
"If you tell me," she informed Duncan, "You tell her."   
  
"Or else what?" asked Duncan, unimpressed.   
  
"Or else I do."   
  
He sighed, knowing a true threat when he saw one and realizing the line had   
  
been drawn. There were now two choices: tell both of them everything, or don't   
  
tell either one anything. Thinking on it for a minute, he was torn – he couldn't   
  
tell Alex, but he couldn't not tell Amy. Just look at the trouble Kat had caused   
  
because he hadn't told her – oh great. Kat. She still didn't know either.   
  
Duncan shook his head, not pleased to remember that there was a third   
  
variable. He had to tell Kat, there was no question there. And he knew that he   
  
had to tell Amy, too – and once they knew, Alex would too. There was no way   
  
around it – he had to tell them all.   
  
It was at that moment that Kat, who had been lying on the ground beside him,   
  
groaned and started to wake up.   
  
"Where am I?" she muttered groggily, opening her eyes and looking around in   
  
confusion. "The last thing I saw was a fire…"   
  
"Don't worry," Duncan assured her. "We left that behind. We're safe now."   
  
Kat slowly sat up, hugging her knees and wincing.   
  
"I don't remember ever hurting so much in my life," she moaned. "It feels like   
  
every inch of me was beaten to death and back again. And I'm so tired…" She   
  
rested her chin on her knees and heaved a sigh. "Ugh."   
  
"Well then, I guess I can't very well ask if you're ok, huh?" said Alex.   
  
"I guess not," replied Kat. She could barely find the energy to smile. "So   
  
what're you guys doing? Just sitting around waiting for me to wake up?"   
  
"We're trying to get him to tell us something," Amy told her, nodding at   
  
Duncan.   
  
"Good luck," Kat said with a derisive snort. "I think you need whips and fire to   
  
make that work."   
  
Duncan raised his eyebrows, and everybody heard a laugh. Turning to look,   
  
they saw Millie with a wide grin on her face.   
  
"Atta girl," she said to Kat, walking over to sit and stare at Duncan, still   
  
smiling. "She learns fast," she added.   
  
"All right, all right," said Duncan, having made his decision before Kat even   
  
woke up. "I'll tell all of you, but it's a long story -" Kat cut him off.   
  
"If it's that long, save it. I wanna go home."   
  
Amy was surprised, but after thinking about it, decided not to argue with Kat,   
  
given the state she was in. Besides, it wasn't like Amy had all the energy in the   
  
world right then, either.   
  
"Me too," she said, giving Alex a look.   
  
"All right then," agreed Alex. "We'll go. But you'll tell us later right?" she   
  
asked, glaring pointedly at Duncan.   
  
He nodded.   
  
"I will," he promised. "Just let me warn you two -" he gestured to Amy and   
  
Kat "- be careful what you wish for. Very careful."   
  
"You sound like a freakin' prophet," muttered Kat. "Either tell us something or   
  
shut up, would you?"   
  
"And as for you," he continued, "For god's sake – and everyone else's, too –   
  
keep your temper under control. You have no idea what could happen if you   
  
don't."   
  
"Actually," Kat replied, "I think I do. That's the problem."   
  
Duncan shrugged.   
  
"Just thought I'd tell you…"   
  
"Ok, fine, you've told us," said Kat. "Now let's get a move on."   
  
Amy and Alex agreed, and the group moved out of the woods onto the street,   
  
after checking carefully for cars or people. They decided that Alex should go   
  
home by herself first and prepare her parents, so that they didn't get the scare of   
  
their lives when four bloody, scratched, tired people and a cat showed up at the   
  
door.   
  
"I'll be right back," promised Alex, and took off for her house. 


	38. Recovery

A/N: This chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I got stuck partway through   
  
and decided to just post what I have.   
  
* * *   
  
The phone and the doorbell rang at exactly the same moment. Karen sat at the   
  
kitchen table, the just-arrived newspaper in her hands and a forgotten cup of tea   
  
on the counter behind her. At the sound, she jumped up, snatched the phone,   
  
and ran for the door.   
  
"Hello?" she asked while peering out the side window.   
  
"Good morning, ma'am, this is officer Parsons calling from the Merrimack   
  
Police Department in regard to -"   
  
"Alex!" Karen cried, seeing her disheveled daughter standing on the doorstep.   
  
"Excuse me, ma'am?"   
  
"Could you hold on please?" Karen asked officer Parsons hurriedly, yanking   
  
open the door.   
  
"Certainly."   
  
"Alex, thank god!" Karen said, pulling the girl into the house. "What – where   
  
– are you ok?"   
  
Alex nodded, returning her mother's tight hug.   
  
"I'm ok," she assured her. "It's all over – we're back."   
  
"Wait a minute – we? Where are Amy and Kat?" Karen's relief started to   
  
change back into worry.   
  
"They're coming," Alex explained. "I wanted to prepare you first – see,   
  
there're four of us now – and they don't look so good – well, Kat doesn't at   
  
least – and you don't know Duncan – and there's Millie too -"   
  
"Wait a minute," Karen interrupted. "Slow down, you lost me. What's going   
  
on?"   
  
"Sorry mom. I wanted to warn you, then I have to go back and get Amy and   
  
Kat. And there's someone who's, uh, joined us. His name is Duncan."   
  
Karen raised her eyebrows skeptically.   
  
"Who is this Duncan, and why is he with you girls?"   
  
Alex gave her a shorthand explanation, and just as she had convinced her mom   
  
to let Alex out of her sight long enough to go get the others, Karen remembered   
  
the police officer on the phone. She returned to her conversation as Alex hurried   
  
out the door.   
  
* * *   
  
~ Kat's pov ~   
  
We sat by the edge of the road, not saying much, until Alex came running back.   
  
"Ok, come on," she said as I struggled to my feet. "My mom's waiting for us –   
  
let's go. God, Kat," she added, looking me up and down, "You look like the   
  
walking dead."   
  
"I am," I replied, not having the energy to say anything else. I was beyond   
  
exhausted, into the realm of those barely alive. Lagging behind the rest of the   
  
group on the short walk to Alex's house because I couldn't keep up, I tried to   
  
think of what had made me so unbelievably tired. I had fought Snell and taken   
  
my first Quickening the day before…been kidnapped that night, and therefore   
  
hadn't gotten much sleep…then fought Kevin. But even all of that combined   
  
didn't seem like enough to make me as tired as I was.   
  
As I was walking along, staring at the ground, the reason finally came to me –   
  
that strange source of power I had found when Kevin had been about to kill me.   
  
That had been an explosion of pure energy strong enough to send me flying and   
  
blast everything around me into ancient history. Especially if I had been in some   
  
way in control of it, which I think I was, I didn't doubt that it could leave me   
  
feeling like I did.   
  
I sighed and continued to drag myself toward Alex's house, and Duncan   
  
dropped back to walk with me.   
  
"You ok?" he asked.   
  
I mumbled something indistinct – even I wasn't sure exactly what it was   
  
supposed to be, but it sounded remarkably like a swear word. Duncan laughed.   
  
"You'll feel better when you get some sleep," he told me. "You overdid it, and   
  
your body's not used to that treatment yet."   
  
"Yet?"   
  
"Oh, in time you won't even notice it anymore. It'll take awhile, though, so   
  
don't get your hopes up."   
  
"Huh."   
  
We walked in silence the rest of the way, or at least I think we did. If Duncan   
  
said anything, I didn't hear it. When we finally reached our destination, Karen   
  
brought us all inside, looking both extremely relieved and immensely annoyed.   
  
She was carrying a telephone receiver around and talking into it while trying to   
  
clear off places around the table for all of us to sit.   
  
"I – what?" she said to the person on the other end. "Now? Listen, I -" She   
  
paused for a moment. "No, I can't right now. There is simply no way -" Another   
  
pause, followed by an exasperated sigh. "Can my husband go?" She listened for   
  
the answer, then demanded loudly, "Both of us? Why both? My husband is his   
  
parent too, you know! And I can't leave right now." There was silence for a   
  
minute, and then she said, "Listen, I'm sending Wayne, and you'll have to make   
  
do with that." Then she slammed the phone down and turned to us.   
  
"Sorry about that, make yourselves comfortable, I'll be right back," she rattled   
  
off, and headed into the basement. "Wayne?" I heard her calling on the way   
  
down, and then the door shut behind her. I looked at Alex, shrugged, and sat   
  
down on the steps to their sunken living room. Amy and Alex sat at the table,   
  
and Duncan stayed standing, leaning on the wall by the basement door. Millie,   
  
feeling it wasn't a wise idea to involve herself any further and knowing no one   
  
was missing her yet, had taken off, saying she would see me later.   
  
After a few moments of silence, Alex suggested that I might want to go wash   
  
my face so I didn't scare anyone.   
  
"Geez," I sighed, "Do I really look that bad?"   
  
Alex nodded.   
  
"Sorry, but yeah, you do."   
  
Rolling my eyes, I got to my feet and headed for the bathroom, glancing in the   
  
mirror by the front door on the way. That quick glance turned into a double   
  
take, and I stopped and stared at myself in surprise.   
  
"I do look horrible," I muttered, and Amy laughed. I turned away from the   
  
mirror and continued down the hall, passing Duncan on the way, who nodded.   
  
"Like death warmed over," he observed, and I gave him a half-hearted kick   
  
without stopping. When I reached the bathroom, I turned on the tap and looked   
  
at myself in the mirror again while I waited for the water to warm up. I was pale   
  
and slightly sweaty, and my mouth and chin were smeared with blood. My shirt   
  
was also extensively bloody, as were my hands, and the shirt was ripped beyond   
  
repair. My pants had received the same treatment, but since they were jeans, it   
  
almost looked deliberate. As long as they weren't ripped in any immodest   
  
places, I figured, I could wear them again. After a thorough washing, of course.   
  
I scrubbed my face, arms, and hands thoroughly, dried off, and emerged into   
  
the kitchen feeling somewhat cleaner, though no less painful.   
  
* * *   
  
To make a long and boring story shorter, although probably no more exciting,   
  
we told Karen and Wayne that we had been kidnapped for ransom by a man   
  
whose name we didn't know, and that Duncan had come across us by chance   
  
and helped us to beat up our captor and escape. We deliberately tried to make it   
  
unclear if Kevin had survived, but Wayne asked us directly and we had no   
  
choice but no answer.   
  
"Um," I said brilliantly, but Duncan saved me.   
  
"He fell down the stairs and was killed," he told them.   
  
We explained away the fire to a wiring short somewhere, and then Wayne said   
  
he had to go to the police station.   
  
"For what?" I asked uneasily, knowing immortals and cops didn't mix well.   
  
"Nick," he replied, then left as Karen told us that Nick had gone bike-riding   
  
that morning, and then just as we showed up she had gotten a call from the   
  
police…  
  
When she finished, Alex and I exchanged looks, realizing the same thing at the   
  
same time: the distraction that allowed us to escape unnoticed from the   
  
warehouse, that we had been so grateful for, had been Alex's brother. I just   
  
shook my head, not knowing what to say, and hoped that Nick could be proved   
  
innocent.   
  
* * *   
  
My parents showed up not long after that, followed in short order by Amy's   
  
parents. We repeated our story, never mentioning anything about immortals and   
  
claiming we had taken the city bus back to town and walked from there.   
  
After the inevitable parental fussing, my mom caught sight of Duncan, who   
  
was still leaning on the wall, staying out of the action as much as possible. I   
  
knew she had already noticed him, since of course he had been part of our story,   
  
but I guess she was only now getting around to really seeing who he was. She   
  
looked an odd combination of amazed and skeptical, and it hit me suddenly that   
  
I wouldn't even know that Highlander existed if it wasn't for her and dad. She   
  
knew exactly who he was.   
  
I was afraid for a few minutes that I was watching a disaster in progress, but   
  
with a bit of effort my friends and I managed to distract her. Usually it wasn't so   
  
easy to change her mental track, but in this case she was obviously still   
  
concerned over me, and I convinced my parents that I needed to get home more   
  
than they needed to question Duncan.   
  
"All right," dad said, "You're tired, you've had a tough night – let's go. Come   
  
on," he said to mom, who agreed.   
  
"You need to rest," she told me, and for once I didn't roll my eyes, as I   
  
happened to agree. I promised my friends that we would all talk soon, shooting   
  
a look at Duncan to be sure he knew that he, especially, was expected to do   
  
some talking, and then I left with my parents.   
  
* * *   
  
It was about three days later that Amy called me up on the phone and said, "I   
  
know somebody who has a lot of explaining to do."   
  
"So do I," I agreed. After returning from Alex's house in the late morning, I   
  
had gone straight to bed and slept until 2:30 the next morning, when I had   
  
suddenly come awake and been unable to go back to sleep. Staring at the ceiling   
  
for several hours, I had thought things over at length, come up with absolutely   
  
nothing useful, and finally fallen back to sleep as the sun rose.   
  
"How are you going to find him?" asked Amy, bringing me back to the   
  
present.   
  
"Um…" That was the one thing I hadn't thought about. "Can I call you back?"   
  
"Sure."   
  
After pondering the issue for a few minutes, I went searching for Millie, finally   
  
finding her taking a nap on our guest bed.   
  
"Hey Mil," I said, and she yawned hugely before turning to look at me.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Do you have any idea how I could find Duncan?"   
  
She thought about that while giving her ears a bath.   
  
"I'll try for you," she said a minute later. I wondered exactly how a cat would   
  
go about finding a person, but I didn't question it out loud.   
  
"Thanks," I said, and left her to whatever she was going to do.   
  
An hour later, Millie found me as I was sitting at the computer checking my   
  
e-mail.   
  
"Duncan will be coming this way next week," she told me abruptly. "He says   
  
he wants to talk to all three of you at the same time."   
  
"You talked to him?" I asked in surprise. "Where is he?"   
  
"New York."   
  
"And you talked to him?" I repeated. Millie simply nodded.   
  
"Thursday afternoon," she informed me, and left.   
  
I called Amy back and told her what was going on, then Alex, and we all   
  
agreed to meet on Thursday afternoon to get this mystery solved once and for   
  
all. 


	39. A Whole New World

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but it just didn't seem to want to come together.   
  
But here it is, finally!   
  
* * *   
  
I waited with mixed feelings for Thursday to arrive. I was impatient to hear the   
  
story that had been so carefully eluding me, but I was at the same time a bit   
  
apprehensive. I mean, I really had to wonder how Duncan was going to explain   
  
burning buildings, mysterious place-shiftings, and especially the fact the Alex   
  
was still alive. I hadn't seen her death myself, of course, but Amy had told me   
  
the story in detail, and I wondered now just as much as she did.   
  
When Thursday finally rolled around, my friends met me at my house, and we   
  
all walked down to the pond together. The Starosselskis had eventually come   
  
home from wherever they'd been during the barn fire, and the old building was   
  
now swarming with workmen, who appeared to be rebuilding the top floor.   
  
However, there was a small but dry space behind the pond where Millie had told   
  
us to meet Duncan, and that's where we went.   
  
As we hit the near side of the pond and started around its edge to the far end,   
  
my head swirled with that feeling of a nearby immortal – Duncan had already   
  
arrived. At least I hoped it was Duncan. As we walked through the weeds, I   
  
noticed Alex scratching her palms.   
  
"What's with you?" I asked her curiously. "Nervous?"   
  
She shook her head.   
  
"No. I just got the strangest sensation. My hands are sort of tingling."   
  
I made a face.   
  
"That's odd."   
  
"It's annoying, anyway."  
  
We continued through the tall grass along the water's edge, over the rickety   
  
white bridge crossing the pond's inlet stream, and around areas of weeds and   
  
muck until we reached the small, dry clearing.   
  
"Hello," said Duncan from behind me. Alex jumped, but I was starting to learn   
  
by that time that Duncan did things like that.   
  
"Must you?" I answered, as Alex said with relief, "Oh, it's you."   
  
"I think some people are just like that," said Amy. "Annoying as it may be to   
  
the rest of us. Hello, by the way."   
  
I sat down on a log across from Duncan, who was perched on a rock, while   
  
Alex and Amy found seats beside me.   
  
"So how are you today?" he asked us, a slight smile on his face. We all   
  
answered at the same time.   
  
"Fine."   
  
"Good."   
  
"Annoyed!"   
  
Duncan raised an eyebrow.   
  
"With?"   
  
"You," Amy retorted, even though it had been me that said "annoyed." I   
  
grinned.   
  
"You got it."   
  
He shook his head.   
  
"Guess I'm not getting out of this one, huh?" he asked, but I could tell he was   
  
kidding.   
  
"Guess not," said Alex. "And here we are, waiting for you to talk…"   
  
"Hint, hint," Amy added.   
  
"All right, all right," Duncan said, holding up his hands in surrender. We   
  
stayed quiet, anxiously awaiting answers to the million and two questions that   
  
had come up in the last week. "I get the point." He sighed, turning his head to   
  
look at some distant point in space. "Well, I'm not quite sure where to start, but   
  
I guess it would be by saying that immortals are not all that you think they are.   
  
And yet, in another way, there are aspects of us that you don't know about yet."   
  
I raised an eyebrow when he looked back at me, reminding him without saying   
  
anything of precisely how much I liked double-talk like that. He nodded,   
  
grinning slightly, as he caught my drift to hurry up and get to the point.   
  
"So I'll start by explaining the way we heal faster than normal people. It seems   
  
to come naturally from inside our bodies, right?" Alex nodded. Amy and I   
  
didn't move. "It actually doesn't, despite what it seems like. Our healing ability   
  
is a separate power that has nothing to do with our physical unconscious."   
  
"Physical unconscious?"   
  
"How a normal human heals," Duncan explained. "They're not aware that   
  
they're doing it, and they don't control the process themselves, but it happens   
  
anyway. It's not like that with us – we don't heal at all without doing anything   
  
to help the wound, not even at a normal rate. That's why we have what's known   
  
in general as 'healing power.' All immortals have it, though some are stronger   
  
than others, and some possess a natural talent for it while others don't. But it's   
  
there to some degree in all of us."   
  
I frowned.   
  
"Wait a minute. So you're saying that we somehow consciously heal   
  
ourselves, our bodies don't do it for us?" He nodded. "Then why am I still in   
  
one piece? I distinctly remember having several things broken on me within the   
  
last, say, week. I definitely didn't do anything, especially seeing as I was passed   
  
out on the ground half the time. What am I doing sitting here right now?"   
  
"That's the other part of the power, the part I hadn't gotten to yet: the power to   
  
heal others. You're right, you didn't do anything for yourself – you don't know   
  
how yet. You have to learn." He leaned back against a tree trunk. "So why are   
  
you still in functional shape? Because I healed you. Once you get control of   
  
your healing magic on yourself, you can use it on others, as well. Other   
  
immortals, at least. Not mortals, though," he added with a grin, "it doesn't mix   
  
well with their physics."   
  
"You said magic," said Amy suddenly. "The first time you said 'power,' but   
  
just now you said 'magic.' You're not going to tell me…" She trailed off.   
  
"That we have supernatural abilities?" Duncan finished for her. "In fact, I am,   
  
much as it may startle you. And healing isn't the only one, though it's certainly   
  
the most commonly used. There are all sorts of things we can do, and they're   
  
different for every person. No two immortals in the world have exactly the same   
  
powers, whether the difference is in skill, array, or strength."   
  
"Array?"   
  
"The number of different things you can do. Some people only have one or   
  
two powers, while others have five or six or more. The more Quickenings you   
  
take, the more powerful you get, because that's what you gain from another   
  
immortal's head – his powers. Not necessarily all of them, though, or even the   
  
same ones that he had. Often, powers will mutate in the translation process into   
  
something completely different. So even if you knew the powers of the   
  
immortal you killed, those may not be the powers you gain. If you gain any at   
  
all, of course – sometimes you don't. You never know what will happen during   
  
a Quickening – they're strange things, with a lot of energy that's beyond our   
  
scope of control. They can kill, change, and bring to life, and nobody knows   
  
quite how or why. Not to use a cliché, but it works in this case: the only   
  
constant is change. There is only one thing that never changes: the color of your   
  
particular power. Everyone's is a different shade, though once again, nobody   
  
knows why. It's just the way things are."   
  
My friends and I looked at each other for a minute, then back at Duncan,   
  
unsure what to say. After several moments of silence, I decided I had to say   
  
something to get things going again, because we clearly didn't have the whole   
  
story yet.   
  
"So what are the 'other powers' you were talking about? There's healing, and   
  
then there's…what else?"   
  
"More than I can list right now," said Duncan, shaking his head, "But I can tell   
  
you some of the more common ones. There are war mages and fire mages, who   
  
are often one and the same, though not always. Those powers are under the   
  
category of physical abilities, like healing, because they have results you can   
  
see. There's another category of powers, too, which are generally known as   
  
mental powers – metaphysical mages, if you want to get technical about it.   
  
Basically, those powers that can't be seen working, at least not by those people   
  
who don't have that power themselves. That category includes psychic abilities   
  
and celestial connections."   
  
"What are celestial connections?" asked Alex.   
  
"Some mages can draw on power that doesn't come from human sources,"   
  
Duncan explained. "They can draw energy from the natural world – water, the   
  
earth, or the stars."   
  
"Not fire?"   
  
Duncan rolled his eyes.   
  
"Fire mages have been argued over since they've existed," he said. "Nobody   
  
can decide which category they fall under, because they draw from an element,   
  
but the manifestation of their power is physical." He turned to me. "Kat, you're   
  
a fire mage."   
  
"I was going to guess that," I said dryly. "Seeing as I seem to be able to make   
  
things explode…"   
  
Duncan laughed.   
  
"Good guess. You may have war-mage capabilities, too. A lot of fire mages do   
  
– there isn't a lot of difference in the way they use their power."   
  
"So what's a war mage?"   
  
"Someone with the power to explode objects at will. It doesn't necessarily   
  
involve fire, though, which is what happens when a war mage also has   
  
firepower. A pure war mage can pulverize things without the added flames."   
  
I nodded, vaguely amazed that I understood what he meant, then turned to look   
  
at Alex, who appeared somewhat stunned.   
  
"Is he telling me I have magic powers?" I asked her, just to be sure I wasn't   
  
imagining things. "Am I asleep?"   
  
She turned to look at me.   
  
"I think so, and no, unless I am too."   
  
"Thanks." I turned back to Duncan, who grinned.   
  
"Believe it," he said. "We all do."   
  
"All immortals?" I questioned, just to be sure. "Every single one?"   
  
"Yes, all of us. Some aren't very powerful, but everyone has at least some   
  
healing power – otherwise we wouldn't survive. A few have far more than   
  
healing power, but most of us are somewhere in between, with four or five   
  
talents."   
  
"What was Kevin's power? I think he used it on me in the warehouse – it   
  
seemed like he was searching for me or something." Thinking back, I   
  
remembered running into Kevin after we had escaped from the ceiling, and   
  
telling him there was something chasing me…  
  
"Thank you for reminding me," he had said, and snapped his fingers. I hadn't   
  
seen the purple thing again.   
  
"He wasn't very powerful," Duncan told me. "He was most talented at   
  
tracking people, which is how he found you so easily."   
  
There was silence for a few moments while we thought about that. I listened to   
  
the water flowing into the pond a few yards away and pictured Kevin's snarling   
  
face, with a purple snake leering over his shoulder.   
  
"So prove to us we're mages," Amy said finally. "It's a handy explanation on   
  
your part, but you've got to admit, even if it's true, that it's hard to believe."   
  
Duncan nodded.   
  
"Yes, it is," he agreed, "Especially when society does its best to convince   
  
people that such things aren't possible. So I'll show you."   
  
He held out his hand, palm-up, and closed his eyes, appearing to be   
  
concentrating on something. My friends and I waited quietly, unsure what he   
  
was doing but feeling that whatever it was, it wasn't a wise idea to distract him   
  
from it. After a few seconds, I jumped as I suddenly noticed that Duncan's hand   
  
was starting to glow. Or, more precisely, something in his hand was starting to   
  
glow. A minute ago, his hand had been empty – now there appeared to be a ball   
  
of something nearly transparent in his palm, glowing with a magenta-colored   
  
light. It reminded me of the purple snake in the warehouse, and now I knew   
  
why. They were both mage-power, or whatever it was properly called.   
  
The ball of light in Duncan's palm slowly grew larger and brighter until it was   
  
about the size of a fist, and then Duncan opened his eyes and looked at us. Just   
  
seeing that light in his hand was strange enough, but his eyes were almost   
  
frightening – they were glowing with the same magenta light as his hand. It   
  
wasn't obvious at first, but once I saw the glow, deep in his eyes, I could look   
  
away. It was hypnotizing me…I tried to pull my gaze away, but couldn't   
  
move…he had me trapped…then suddenly he blinked, and I was free.   
  
I shook my head sharply and glanced over at my friends, both of whom were   
  
looking distinctly dazed.   
  
"Wow," said Alex softly. "That's…" she seemed at a loss for words.   
  
"Amazing," Amy finished for her. I just nodded.   
  
* * *   
  
A/N (again): Don't flip because there are still some loose ends. Notice this is   
  
called "First adventure," which correctly implies more to come. I hope you   
  
liked it! If you've been reading all along and haven't reviewed, please let me   
  
know your opinion. If you're one of my loyal reviewers, thank you so much – I   
  
wouldn't have done it without you! That means special thanks to   
  
SouthernChickie, MorganaPendragon, and Kitty. 


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